Assassin's Creed: Chronos
by T.M.Wolf
Summary: She didn't know why she was chosen, or if she was at all. She only knew she'd been pulled through time to help a family involved in a war she'd never thought to exist, and that it was her only way back home. Most of all, though, she certainly didn't expect the young man with whom her fate became inexplicably entwined. Ezio/OC
1. Prologue

**TMWolf** _\- Hello, all, and welcome to my newest story! Firstly, sorry to many of my followers-this _isn't _a Transformers fic! Lately I've been rather *ahem* "obsessed" with Assassin's Creed, and I've actually had this idea for a long time so I thought I would use it! You'll also recognize the main OC, so if some of you followed me out of a bit of love for her... well, you'll get to see her grow and change all over again ;) It might be a bit lame to re-use her, but she's my go-to girl to be honest! I use her all over the place, actually, ha ha..._

_And to those who don't know and are just reading this: Whelp. I'm a _little _late to the Ezio/AC 2 party, but here I am! I've come to join my fellow Assassin fans and, in particular, Italian Assassin-lovers to have me own go at the series! Now, this is definitely an AU to AC2, but I believe it still holds plenty true. You'll see why later on. Oh! And, yes, my OC is going to be pulled through time (the summary says it lol), but don't worry about paradoxes or what not. Again, you'll see why... after like, forever. As in, towards the end ;) Oh, and this is a slow-mance. As in, you're probably going to be hating me for taking it so slow, heh heh_

_Right. So... I don't think I need TOO much explaining-not yet, anyways, being that this is just the Prologue! Yeeeep. We're not going to be meeting any Italian Assassins just yet, but I promise they'll show up! For now, get a small peak at my OC and some hints of what's going on~ Updates will pretty much be whenever I finish a chapter, and since this is a "hot" fic for me, it may be weekly. I'll try for it, anyways, but no promises! I have school to contend with, after all._

_Oh! And if you can, if you see any grammar/spelling/word errors let me know! God knows no matter how many times I go over it, I still don't find them all, and Microsoft Word is only so helpful. So, again, if you see mistakes, tell me! I'll appreciate the help a lot :)_

_Actually, one more thing. Sooo I intend to use song titles for my chapters like I did with my transformers fic, and the song is meant to go along in both title, sound, and lyrics, but it's not always perfect. Anyways, for the prologue, the song of choice would be: Brother Bear (OST) - Transformation. In fact, I recommend listening to it as you read along... although the best place to start is when the crazy stuff starts happening._

_Anyways, that's all for now! Enjoy!_

_P.S. A HUGE shout-out to my friend (she knows who she is) who kicked my butt into getting this story going and helped me figure out a lot of stuff that kept it from being ready and is letting me "borrow" and mold some of her suggestions to fit this monster! :)_

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**Summary: **She didn't know why she was chosen, or if she was at all. She only knew she'd been pulled through time to help a family involved in a war she'd never thought to exist, and that it was her only way back home. Most of all, though, she certainly didn't expect the young man with whom her fate became inexplicably entwined. Ezio/OC

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Assassin's Creed: Chronos

_-TMWolf-_

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_Prologue_

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**July 5, 2010**

**Glasgow, Scotland**

"Huh."

It wasn't, perhaps, the most appropriate thing to say in light of having a brick wall move aside to reveal a hidden entrance that only opened after finding a secret book switch, but Catherine wasn't particularly worried about that right now. Rather, she was more concerned with the fact that she _had_ found it in a room deep within the confines of her ancestral family's castle. She hadn't really thought much of her father's side of the bloodline; she just assumed they were the usual Scottish kind of people who lived in a bit of nobility, but this was something different. Maybe. Castles generally had secret rooms and entrances, right? It would make sense. Kinda.

So.

There was most likely nothing creepy down there. No torture chambers or dungeons—the family hadn't been kings or queens or rulers or anything—or evil monsters and curses. That would be silly, and pretty fun. Not that she would say it out loud. She also wouldn't say that she was definitely going to go down there and find out what the place was hiding. Definitely not.

Catherine glanced to the wooden door of the room, contemplating whether or not she should get her Mom and the other family here. They would probably find it cool, too, but they were bound to be on the other side of the castle by now and she didn't feel like having to look for them. She'd just show them later. For now, she pulled out of her phone, put on the flashlight app, and looked in to find stone stairs going down. There looked to be stands on the walls for torches, but even if they were fitted with wood or the like, she didn't have a lighter to get them going. Thus, she was quite glad for her phone as she made her way carefully, keeping one hand on the wall.

The stairs curved downward in a spiral, and how far they went she couldn't say. It wasn't terribly long, though, and she found a pristine, wooden door at the end. There was hardly any dust or cobwebs, and she suspected the room was either rarely used or sealed incredibly well. It was probably both. She hoped the door was less so, and grasped its gold-tinted metal handle. It didn't budge at first, but with more effort—a grunt here and there as her knuckles turned white from squeezing—she heard the metal hinges creak and groan. The wood scrapped against the ground slightly, but gave way regardless, revealing a much larger, rectangular room.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, eyes wide as she stepped in and looked around.

Like the rest of the castle, it was made of stones that looked a dark gray when she shined her light on them. Torch bearers lined the walls, three on each side, and two on both short ones. Six beams held the room, and along the walls were tall racks that looked long-since abandoned. She thought maybe something might have gone there—weapons perhaps—but not for many years, if at all. There were two small steps that went up to the outer part of the room beyond the beams, just a few inches higher than where she was at. Red carpet ran along the surface, and as she ventured further in, she found the same carpet beneath her feet, somewhat tattered, running along the center. At the very back—a mantle. It was, well, spectacular. She'd never seen something made of what was either metal or marble and so ornate, nor did she recognize the design. It reminded her of a spear head or an arrow with the center carved out, although some of it had been cracked or broken away. Two lion-like creatures appeared to be on either side, and she could swear they were the same ones on her family's crest. Then, following its leaves, intricate lines, and the lions' tails downward, she found the one thing left remaining in the entire room: a chest.

It wasn't all that big; maybe a few feet long, two wide, and barely reached her knees. It was a simple thing besides the metal-plated edges she guessed were gold, but looked a little faded and worn, as if it had not been here the whole time. It was not locked, either. In fact, it opened with surprising ease, although for good reason; there was practically nothing left in it. She found a few papers written in what looked an Arabic or some old English language, but it was all nonsense to her. She did find one in more modern English and a large bundle of old parchment tied together with string to go with it, but the open one was hard to read and the knot fairly tight, so she set it aside in favor of the last remaining item. It was a small pouch made of some kind of material. It looked like red velvet, but she didn't think that was quite right. It carried something with weight, too, and after opening it up she found it was a pocket watch, or something like it.

"And just what are you…?" she mused aloud as she admired the device. It was the oddest watch or clock or whatever it was that she'd ever seen. It was half-spherical, curved on the front, and flat on the back. On the surface were twelve notches all in the right place like her mother's watch had, minus the numbers. In the center was only one hand, though, which didn't really make for a good clock and it was emplaced in a grooved circle with thin, short lines coming from it, which touched even more grooved circles. She turned it around to inspect the indentions she'd felt on the back, and found them similar to those on the front, although this time there were odd symbols joining them. She'd never seen anything remotely similar, and wondered who on Earth could have crafted such a thing? She could swear it was made of gold, but it didn't feel right. It did have a golden color, though, so what could it be?

She turned it back around as she thought, rubbing her thumb along where the hand was until a sharp pain shot through her digit. She dropped it with a yelp, hissing as she looked at the new cut on her thumb, leaking a small trickle of blood. She scowled and glared daggers at the clock, picking it back up to find the blood left on it had dribbled into the grooves. She could swear she saw the blood moving weird, but it had to have been a trick of the light. This thing was a jerk, though, that was for sure.

"Well, at least it's still cool. I guess it's worth bringing back. Technically belongs to me in a way. Sort of," she hummed as she turned to go. As soon as her foot touched down, though, a searing heat went through her hand, causing her to drop her phone, yet the Clock remained as if was a part of her, and the world burst.

She tried to scream, but there was no sound. Her body felt like it was on fire, and the very breathe was stolen from her lungs. All thoughts vanished, her mind was mindless; her form was formless. She was empty. Nothing.

Darkness.

It engulfed her now. What was she, anyways? Catherine? A person? A human? A body? An organ? A cell? An atom? Darkness? Nothingness? She didn't know anymore. How could she know? There was nothing; nothing but the searing pain.

Then—light.

It came as an explosion that blinded and deafened her. The heat that came from it was real, her right hand burning as the clock remained stuck to her, glowing so bright it was almost like a star. Yet, she was able to look right at it and somehow see the clock's hand spinning to where it was impossible to tell where it was. All the grooves glowed, and she knew it was where everything had come from. Whatever this—this _thing_ was, it had brought her to this place. This…

'_My God,'_ she gaped as she took in the infinite cluster of stars before her. They seemed to thrust out from her, moving at millions of miles per second. She watched as atoms smashed together and formed dust, which crashed with dust to form lights, which crashed with lights to form explosion after explosion that formed more atoms and dusts and stars. It was brilliant, and she could find no words as the stars collided together and formed spirals and loops and ovals. Galaxies, she realized. Hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of galaxies full of even more billions of stars. There were so many, and they all surrounded her in this darkness that she somehow stood upon, as if it were flat ground. She did not know how it was all happening, only that it was, and she knew she was seeing the birth of the Universe.

She gasped as some forced nearly brought her to her knees, pulling her in some direction, and yet she'd never truly moved. She looked to the clock in her hands, the device burning hotter with every second. She could only wonder how her hand had not completely melted, but there was no time to question it as the force pulled her to a galaxy she recognized, a spiral with two arms spinning as fast as her clock. She saw stars within it come to life and die and be reborn as she moved within it, heading towards some destination in particular. A star. A large one. It was pulsing, it seemed, growing larger and larger and brighter and brighter until it suddenly exploded. She wanted to flinch, but could not as the dust slammed into her, and yet she did not feel it. It passed through her and then began to converge again, creating a new star, a smaller one. All around it dust spun and came together, forming small masses. Like in the beginning, the masses converged into larger ones, and those larger ones combined with smaller and larger ones to become even bigger and bigger until she knew they were planets. She knew them. She recognized them. The nine planets. Four terrestrial. Four gas. The ninth a dwarf. Two rings of asteroids, unable to become planets themselves. Comets and meteors moved through the space, some hitting the planets and others being sent far out again only to return after ages had gone by.

There was no true way to describe what she saw, but she felt moved almost to tears at the sight of it all. To have seen such amazing things—things that humans could only dream had happened! It was a tragedy she could not cry, though. She had a body, but it was not all there. She did not feel fully complete, and she knew the device was not done with her. Again, she was pulled forward and brought to the planet she knew better than all the rest, for it was her home. Her Earth. It was not the home she knew, though. The ground was archaic and savage; the rocks devoid of life and the waters not yet full. Lava spewed forth and chemicals lit the skies in colors as they fought their way to freedom. Reactions upon reactions happened as the rains filled the oceans and the rocks retained their shape, which would only slowly change over the long course of time. She was watching the Earth being forged.

"**You have come,"** a voice called, and it was not her own. It was not her uncle or cousin, but a stranger. A man. His voice echoed, reverberating throughout her body as if she were the voice, too. She was not, though, and when she turned to look she found a man, tall and foreboding with a long, full beard, yet enthralling and made of light. His form was ethereal; there was an emptiness to him, and he looked like no human she could recognize. His features were too perfect, too serene; his garbs to glorious, too mighty; his eyes too far-seeing, too knowing. He was a god. That, she was certain of.

"**Ah… but you are not right—too distant. The blood too faint,"** he went on, looking at her—but was there anything left to see? She couldn't recall anymore. The man lifted his arm, and she felt the clock in her hand pulse. Fire began to fill her and, at last, she saw her form. It was made of tendrils of light that moved upwards. They formed bone and muscle and skin and then an arm with clothes she knew. It worked its way to her head, and she knew how to breathe and think again. It moved to her chest, which had a heart that could beat once more. It moved to her legs, which could quiver and truly feel the ground beneath her feet, which had turned to white. Her eyes remembered how to really see, and before she knew it there were images and glyphs and rings of light all around her. She was whole once more. She was Catherine.

"W-what is this?" she gasped, spinning to see all around. Beyond the glyphs she saw the Earth had settled and green was forming on the surface. The ocean was full, and she could see lights within moving—lifeforms. She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

"**You must be altered; become more as We are. It will be painful."**

Catherine turned to the man, heart racing, "What is going on!?"

"**You were not what We sought—not completely, but you are what must be. The balance has shifted; things have been set awry. The Mark of Cain grows too dangerous. They have what they should not. You, Catherine Wolfe, must go forth and stop what has been altered. You must prevent Cain's blood from bringing about the end of our legacy. You must seek the Brotherhood and aid him. Only you may do this—you who bear the Clock,"** the man continued, not heeding the other's cries. The man raised his arm once more, and Catherine screamed in agony. She was on fire again, the light of her body constricting and squeezing until she recognized it as proper flesh and clothing. Images flashed through her mind—faces, names, symbols, things she did not know or understand. She could hardly bear to stand, and yet she stood, some force supporting her.

"Stop—please!"

"**We cannot. You may only move forward. Prevent the end of your future and you will be returned… ah, but even now your mind is still not able… You are not ready. Too distant still. We must give you more time, but there is so little... Ah, but perhaps it is enough. Yes, We can accept this. Go, Catherine. The Clock will protect you and guide you. Seek it for your knowledge—your path. Find the Brotherhood. Stop the Mark of Cain. This is what you must do,"** the man finished, and then he vanished. Catherine wailed with despair, calling for the man to come back and stop this, but it was no use. He was gone, and with her the symbols and glyphs.

She was alone before the world again, and she watched as life emerged from the ocean; watched the creatures flourish and grow and become great and grand, but then, from the skies—a stream of light. She watched as a civilization emerged—creatures of beauty and light and amazing things. She didn't understand. They shouldn't have been, and yet there they grew with great cities and kingdoms and creations. She watched them forge their tools and a new race—one she recognized as her own, working as laborers, and a second; a cousin from long ago, made for battle. She saw them all work and grow together, forming their great empire. She saw them love and hate and breed and war. She saw the death and chaos, and she saw them try to save themselves, but it was too late. The Earth was devoured by fire and nearly torn asunder. Yet, the creators and their workers survived, but only one was able to thrive despite it all. The former whittled and died, leaving themselves as gods, while the humans continued on, forging their cities and empires and the world she knew, just as their predecessors had.

Time moved faster now, the ancient past going by in an instant. Information flooded her, filling her mind with images and thoughts and sounds and so much that she felt she might burst once more and be nothingness again. The Clock was forever too hot, and it continued to grow hotter. She feared that, despite what the woman had said, she would perish. There seemed no end even as the images tore through to the European continent; rushed through the many cities and people towards buildings of white walls and red roofs and stone. It threw her through the crowds and structures to come to one in particular; a palace of grandeur and a man before it and then—a mark. A carved out spear or arrow of white that shone as bright as the sun. It was too much and she screamed again.

And then there was nothing.

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_Prologue – End_

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**_TMWolf_**_ \- Aaaaaand there's the prologue! Soooo a lot of confusing and crazy stuff right now, and, well.. a _lot_ won't be explained for a while, unfortunately. I like to keep my readers waiting and guessing, although some things should be kind of obvious. For now, though, I'm keeping things under wraps, BUT: feel free to ask me questions! If something is confusing, let me know, and if it won't spoil anything, I'll explain it to you. Promise!_

_Although... I do have one fun thing: can anyone guess what the "Clock" might be and just who the "Goddess" was? ;) The Goddess should be pretty easy, but the item... well, it's actually based off a canon object in the games! If you can guess right, well, then you get to brag about knowing your AC lore. (EXCEPT FOR TWO PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHO THEY ARE AND SHOULD KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT SO THEY DON'T SPOIL THINGS.)_


	2. Act I - The Call

**TMWolf: **_Oh, dang, four reviews for my prologue! Thanks guys! xD Anyways, so I am posting this a little early since I figured that short little prologue was hardly a proper way to trick-er, I mean, reel in readers to this story of mine, so here's chapter 1 quite a bit early! It's nowhere near as much of a mind trip as the prologue, so you can be at ease people. In fact, it's much more normal and we even get to meet our first Assassin, yay! Also, you may notice my new little "Act I" thing. Yep. Dividing this thing up into Three Acts, of various lengths, because it seemed pretty cool to do. It'll only show up at the beginning and end of Acts, so if it bothers you, no worries-it'll be gone next chapter. No telling when it'll show again-I'm not even sure what chapter Act I will end on yet! xD_

_Right. So. Oh! This chapter's song title is pulled from the game Journey's soundtrack - The Call. I thought it was rather fitting... and you probably will, too, as you read;)_

_Now, for replying to those lovely Guests! (If you have an account please do log in and I can reply directly! :'D)_

**_Guest_**_ \- I'm glad! I hope it continues to be interested for you!_

**_Woah _**_\- Thank-you, and, actually, I have not seen Lucy! It did look like fun, but I haven't seen it yet. Thanks for the review!_

_Right, so I don't have much to say and I don't want to spoil anything, so without further a do-Chapter 1, in which Catherine teaches everyone how to get new clothes the Renaissance way!_

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**Act I**

_Sojourner_

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_**01 **__– The Call_

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It was a little hot and a little humid, but nowhere near unbearably so. She could feel the trickle of sweat on her brow and the warmth of the hard surface beneath her. There was also a strange wetness on her other cheek and a strong, almost rank smell she vaguely recognized. Her head hurt and felt heavy; like it was made of lead. The rest of her tingled and retained a lingering ache, but it was fading with each passing second. Somehow, she managed to open her eyes. She blinked them slowly, letting them adjust to the shaded sunlight, and also to take in what she was seeing.

Stones. Grayish-white-tinted stone. And legs. Four of them, thick and bulky and covered in short, dark fur. There were small drops of drool in front of the paws, which were scraped here and there, matching the light scars further along. When she looked upwards, she found the large head of an equally large dog. It was a mastiff, and now that it realized she was awake, it made a soft whine and licked her with its slobbering tongue. She made a sound of disgust as she quickly sat up and wiped the slime from her face, and then had to push her hands against the dog's chest to keep it from licking her again.

"Stop," Catherine commanded, using the voice she always used with her own dogs. The mastiff made a chuff before it backed off and sat down, watching her expectantly. She raised a brow. "What? I don't have treats and I don't even know you. I'll give you pets if you… er… if… uh… where… where am I?"

Stone buildings, at least three to four stories tall surrounded her. She was at the back end, where the two sides met—an alley. There were a handful of dark, wooden doors, all of them closed, and many windows shared the same fate. A couple of laundry clothes lines hung above with garments strewn about. A few stacks of crates were here and there—she was actually slightly behind one obscuring her view to the exit—and she noticed some tools such as brooms or buckets or cloth spread out near a ladder. When she leaned forward, she could see the brightened street, and beyond that was the sunlight glittering off a river. It was there she spotted a small crowd of people walk by, and felt her stomach drop a little.

While she knew she wasn't in a usual place—she didn't know any city or town with buildings or alleys like the one she was in—but the people… their clothes… they were…

_'No, no, that can't be right. I… I have to be at a Renaissance Festival or something or… but… why… the hell would I be here? I was in Scotland! I was in my family's castle! I was… I was…'_

Catherine's heart skipped a beat and the flare of panic scalded her insides as the memories started to come back. That wasn't entirely true, though; she couldn't recall it perfectly. It was blurred; sporadic—like trying to recall a dream from the night before. She caught glimpses: a burst of light; the symbols; the man; the pain. It made her body shake and breathing difficult. She brought her hands up to clutch her body, but pulled them away at once as if shocked when she felt a hard surface press against her side. She looked to her hand and found the very thing that had done all this.

"No… no, no no no no," she whimpered, eyes wide as she gazed at the Clock. It was still there, in her right hand. Briefly, she thought it was stuck there—that it really had been burned into her hand—but then it fell to her lap when she her limb shook too much. It was cold now, and the single hand was set to the twelve mark. She just wanted to shove it off, run away, and keep on going. She wanted nothing to do with it and whatever the man had wanted. She just wanted to go home—go back to her family! To escape from this nightmare!

"Wake up!" she hissed, smacking her face and biting her tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing this wasn't reality, but she knew it was. This was too _real_ to be a dream. Too much had happened. She was awake.

Catherine jumped when a wet nose touched her cheek, and she looked to the dog with panic for a moment before she sighed with defeat. She rubbed behind its ear, much to the Mastiff's delight, and ultimately picked up the Clock again. Though the memories were vague, she did remember that the man had said she needed to do something—to help someone. Then… then she could be "returned". She could go back home. That meant she needed the Clock. It had brought her here, so it was the only thing that could bring her back. But by God—a _time machine_! She had a fucking time machine! She'd been brought back through _time_! She was in the _past!_ She was stuck here to go on some God-forsaken mission that made no sense and she had no idea about, and she was expected to do it!?

Anger overtook despair in less than a second, and the red-headed young woman grabbed the Clock tight in her fingers. She brought her arm back to throw it, and almost did. Her muscles tightened, the coils and springs of flesh ready to fire, but then they never did. They stayed taut as she grit her teeth and struggled and warred against herself. Ultimately, though, she lowered her arm, and opened her hands to look down at the device.

"Fine. You want me to help stop whatever it is you want stopped… then give me a hint. I can't exactly remember everything besides the pain, which is all on you lady… and… thing, I guess," she sighed, rubbing its surface. It was quiet, though; cold and still. It refused to answer, and she scowled. Great. She was on her own then, wasn't she?

A sharp pain went through her head, and she might have found it ironic if it hadn't hurt a lot more than she wanted and if it hadn't shown her the image from before; the spear or arrow or whatever the hell it was with the center carved out. She bit her lip to keep her shout of pain a whimper, hating the Clock all the more. Thankfully, it only lasted mere moments, yet the picture remained and with it came a tugging. It was an odd feeling, thinking she was being pulled in some way. She wasn't completely like herself as she focused on the sensation, and she really didn't like it.

"Ow," she rumbled as sharp claws dug into her leg. She gave the dog a look, whom whined and shifted expectantly. She raised a brow and rubbed him behind the ears again as she shoved the Clock into her pocket. "What do you want, boy? You want a treat? I don't have any. Want me to get up? Well, I'm getting up. I'm up, I'm up. If it's not you, then it'll be this stupid Clock."

Sighing, she pressed against the stone and forced herself to her feet. Her legs felt a little wobbly, but she got her strength back soon enough. Of course, even though she could stand and move just fine, it didn't mean she'd stay okay. She was back in the past after all, and if she was guessing the time of the peoples' attire right… it was the Middle Ages or Renaissance or near it. Her clothes, however, were very much so modern, and she was a young woman and she was wearing pants. Sure, they wouldn't crucify or burn her, but it probably wouldn't go over so well. She vaguely recalled looking up what would happen once, so she knew people would find it odd, which meant attention, and attention was bad. Very bad. She needed new clothes.

"You know where I can get any new duds? Preferably a… um… cloak. I should hide my face," she asked the Mastiff, whom tilted its head, tongue flopping out. He was no help, though, and he even made a snort before he stood back up and trotted off back out of the alley. Catherine sighed, shoulders slumping. "Some help you are. Come and wake me up just for pets, but when I ask for a little help, you leave. Worse than my damn Huskies."

Shaking her head, she turned back to the alley, looking for something to help her. She eyed the clothesline, but it was mostly the undergarments or things that looked too big. She supposed Renaissance clothes were kind of puffy, but she didn't want to be drowning in them. She also didn't really want a dress. Sure, it would be a "safe" option, but she didn't trust herself to properly get into one or how to even walk like a lady in the Renaissance would. Now, a man… well, she could walk with a proper gait, or close enough, anyways. She'd need a cloak to pull it off, though… but what were the chances that the clothes would be here in this alley? There wasn't even a place for her to get in.

Or, actually, maybe there was.

Catherine hummed thoughtfully as she eyed the nearby ladder. It was tall enough to reach the high up windows, and those were the ones that were open. If she were lucky—as in, ridiculously lucky—she could get into them and maybe find a bedroom with clothes. It was a long shot, but what else could she do? She certainly wasn't going to go walking out in a sweatshirt, converse, and jeans, although if she didn't find anything that was going to have to become a possibility, which made things difficult. Not to mention she didn't even know _where_ in the past she was. If it wasn't at least England or something… God help her, she would have an even _more_ difficult time.

_'Okay. Let's try this out…,' _she hummed as she came over to the ladder, testing it slightly. It was only a little rickety, although still very different from the metal ones back home. It would just have to do. At least one good thing about being made of wood was that it was a _lot _lighter, so getting it to one of the windows was easy enough. She paused, though, glancing around at the buildings; trying to see if anyone had noticed. So far it didn't seem like it, and she supposed the people might be out. Maybe. She didn't consider herself all that lucky, but if the universe was smiling on her after all the crap she'd just been through, then so be it.

Checking one last time, she hurried up as quickly as she felt was safe enough—it was a bit shaky—and peered carefully into the room. It was empty, thankfully, and looked to be a bedroom. There was a bed, what she guessed was a vanity, a dresser, an armoire, and a chest at the foot of the bed. She couldn't hear anyone in the room or further in, and any other sound was from far away, beyond the buildings. She checked the entrance to the alleyway, but no one was coming in or going by right now, so no one would see. Good.

_'Here goes nothing. Never thought I'd steal, but… well, it's for a good cause, yeah?' _she mused as she hauled herself in, stepping down carefully. The floors creaked some, but not badly. She sighed with relief and hurried to the dresser and armoire. The dresser didn't give much, but she found a treasure trove, so to speak, in the latter. Now she was certain the universe was smiling at her when she found it was mostly men's clothes—pants, shirts, vests, and all. She quickly pulled out the shirt and lamented it _was_ too big for her. Still, it was what she needed, so she slipped off her gray sweat jacket, but left her under-armor shirt on. It was comfy and did help reduce her chest a little, which she figured could be useful. Of course, the shirt was so loose her chest size didn't matter, really, but once she exchanged her jeans for the trousers and tucked the white material in, it fit a bit better. Renaissance clothes were poofy, though, almost oddly so—except in the pants. That, she left be to mull on later when she could afford amusement, and instead looked for some new shoes. If there was a full set of clothes there had to be shoes right?

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she looked around, finding nothing until she got down on her hands and knee and spotted the pair hidden under the bed. She grinned as she got them out and switched them with her converse. She thanked her above-average shoe size, as they made the boots fit well enough, although it did feel weird having them come all the way up her calf. With that, she was just about set. Almost. She needed a hood or _something _to hide her face. Her clothes might hide her body's form, but her face and hair were a dead giveaway. Not to mention her red locks, pale face, and ridiculous amount of freckles probably weren't common wherever she was. She wasn't taking the chance they were, anyways.

Again, she got lucky. She didn't know how or why, but there was a cloak left on a chair in the room, and she happily picked up the dark cloth and slipped it over her shoulders and pulled the hood up. A quick look in the vanity's mirror showed her a satisfactory reflection—unless someone looked very closely, they wouldn't know she was a girl. Maybe. Hopefully. It would have to do.

_'But… what about my clothes?' _she wondered, looking back at the items. She didn't have anything to carry them in, but perhaps her cloak could hide them. She knew she couldn't wear them anymore, but she didn't necessarily want to give them up, either. She sighed as she ultimately went with the latter and bundled them so they wouldn't be too conspicuous under her arm and beneath her cloak. It looked okay enough, and so, figuring she was pressing her luck now, she returned to the ladder. After a quick check outside, she returned to the streets and put the ladder back as best she could. No one would notice. Probably.

"Okay… time to do, uh, this… but, uh… where do I…uh, go again?" she murmured, gazing out at the entrance, but unable to move. All the fears and uncertainties came rushing forth in that moment. What if someone _did_ recognize her as a woman? What if they questioned her? What if they arrested her? What if they killed her? How would she get home then? How was she supposed to help whoever? Who was she even kidding? How could she help anyone? She didn't even belong here! It was crazy! All of this was _crazy!_

Catherine hissed as she felt a sharp pang in the back of her head, clutching at her neck with her free hand. At the same time, there was a warmth growing within her jeans' pocket where the watch was still tucked away safely. The tugging from before returned, only it came back harder and faster. It showed her flashes of the images—the mark and then… a man. The face… it had been blurry before, but now it was clearer. She… knew who he was. Yet, she'd never met him. She knew where to go, too. She knew _exactly _where to go, and suddenly her fears were no more. No hesitation. No concerns. No worries. Just a destination—a goal.

The heat became a soothing warmth and the tugging was now more of a dull ache; a small reminder of what she had to do. While she, personally, didn't appreciate being forced to do anything, if this meant going home… she'd do it.

Taking a deep breathe, she secured her hood properly, kept her original clothes tucked safely away, and walked right out of the alley into the sunlight. If anyone looked, she didn't notice, and the more she walked, the less it seemed anyone was looking at all. It could have been that there was a crowd out, and she was just another face in it. It could have been because she walked with such purpose that it would have been rude to interrupt her. She supposed the reason didn't matter—all that did was that she made her way about the city, following some path laid before her that she couldn't see, but that she knew was there. It took her through the streets and throngs of people towards a tall, magnificent home—a palace. Flags adorned its front with many windows and intricate designs, and it was certainly was no ordinary place. Nor was the man walking in front of her, heading towards the arched entrance.

Without thinking she reached out, touched his arm, and met his dark eyes, which were set upon his weathered, but strong face. For a moment, she faltered; her mouth and tongue dry as she struggled for the words. The Clock grew warm again, and her strength returned.

"You are… Giovanni Auditore? The assassin?"

Regret was instantaneous, as was the man's reaction. His hand was like a vice on her arm, and she feared he might break it if he didn't kill her in the next few seconds. If anything, she wondered how she was alive with the way he glared so fiercely at her. She was helpless again him, and for the first time in her life, she felt true fear. She'd never thought she might die, but in this moment it was all she could believe would happen to her. He was going to pull a knife from somewhere and somehow end her life in the middle of the day in a city full of people and no one would notice. She would die and never go home—all because she said something stupid.

"Who are you?" he hissed, any weapon he had kept at bay by some miracle. She saw his eyes flash—or was that a trick of the light? She couldn't be sure, and again she lost her words. His tightening grip and slight jerk reminded her, though, and she realized he held her in such a way that it did not seem as threatening as it was. Certainly, no bystander would notice. She was alone in this, and she knew he could stop her heartbeat at any second. She needed to speak. Now.

"C-Catherine. Catherine Wolfe. I-I was sent here—to find you," she replied as quickly as she could, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

"By who?"

"It was—a… a man," she replied, but his gaze only grew fiercer. "A-and the Clock—the thing I have with me!"

"What thing?" he demanded, and when she reached underneath her cloak, he moved as if to strike her. She held her hand back out, though, and shifted her cloak to show her clothes beneath. He glanced at the bundle and then to her, which she took as a means to continue. When he did not react again when she reached, she figured she was right, and pulled the Clock free. She showed it to him, and thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"This."

His grip faltered, and she couldn't help wondering if he knew of it; knew what it was; what it could do. If he did, he didn't truly show it as he looked around sharply and pulled her with him.

"Inside. Quickly!" he commanded, and she didn't dare resist. She couldn't. He would end her before that, and so she let him pull her inside the courtyard of the palace and then to a door in front of them. Inside was a darkened office lit only by the slim beams of light coming through the windows. It was well furnished and full of books. A wooden desk sat in the middle, cluttered with documents, quills, and ink bottles. Behind it was a fire place with an ornate decoration—one eerily similar to the one in her family's castle and the image the Clock had shown her. In fact, the center of it was the very same.

The man she "knew" as Giovanni brought her in front of the desk after he locked the door, putting her down into one of the smaller chairs while he came around the other side. There he stood for a moment before putting his hands onto the desk, leaning forward on them.

"Put it on the table."

Catherine set her clothes in her lap and did as he asked. She watched him stare at it, as if dumbfounded and yet… concerned? She wasn't sure, but he looked like a man who might have seen a ghost. She knew he had to know what it was, or at least have an idea. Why else would it have caused him to act this way?

"It's called the Clock," she began, and he glanced only briefly at her before staring at the item again. "The man—I... I don't know who he was… but… he said… he said it's called the Clock. It… controls… time or at least… moves through it. And it… it _knows_ things. Tells me things. It's how I knew who you, ah, are."

The man was silent for what felt an eternity before he leaned back up, arms clasped behind his back. He was less furious now; seemingly less like he might kill her. She didn't dare believe the threat was not there, though, and so made sure to hold her tongue—to not make any dangerous moves. She tried, anyways. She didn't know what to expect from him anymore. She thought the Clock would bring her some place safe—to a man who could help her and whom she would help and go home, but this… this was not what she envisioned at all.

"Do you know what this is? This… Clock of yours… if it is what I believe it is?" he asked, and she started to wonder how reliable the device was.

"It's…it…" she tried, but there was no real answer. Not until she felt a small throb and the words came to her and flew from her lips. "Piece of Eden. It's a Piece of Eden."

The man's shoulders seemed to drop, as if some heavy weight were now upon him. He was no less terrifying, though; rather, he was _more_ dangerous. He was a man with a burden, and she had a feeling he had a great deal to protect from that burden. A man like that was perhaps the deadliest of all.

"You said it controls… time? You have made passage? _Through _time?"

She brought her clothes to her chest, as if it protected her, "Yes… It… I know that… that sounds _crazy_, but… but I did. I came from the year twenty-fifteen. I found the Clock in my ancestral castle in Scotland—I don't know if that's around yet. I'm not even sure what year it is right now or where I am, but I found it and… it… something… something happened and I was brought to… there… there was a man. It's… It's hard to remember it all, but he spoke and I woke up here... and I… I had to find you. The Clock, it… it brought me here—to you."

The truth was far-fetched, but she needed to tell him. She had a feeling he might understand. Or, no, maybe not understand the truth, but understand the weight of things. She had a time machine. Maybe the concept of time wasn't something inherently common yet, but surely he could comprehend it? Surely he would understand her plight. He _knew_ what the Clock was, didn't he?

"Can it work—can you alter time? Move through it willingly?" he inquired next, his gaze growing darker with each passing moment. Catherine swallowed hard before answering.

"I… No. I don't know how to make it work. The last time I… I cut myself and maybe it takes my blood. I don't know, but… but I haven't made it work—it activates on its own, but it's just been images. It… it _tells_ me things, like I said. It _showed _me things. So many things. The man… he said it would. He told me it would guide me. Help me do what she asked. I just wish I could remember it all—it showed me so much of the past."

His mouth thinned to a firm crease, "And what did this 'man' ask of you? Who was he?"

"He… I… I can't… it… No, it's… it's coming back… slowly. He was like… a god or—or _something_. I'm not sure. He spoke strangely and said strange things—something about the Mark of Cain, and the Brotherhood? He said something was wrong, and I had to fix it," she replied, grabbing her head as the memories began another slight throb. She was remembering, however, but it still wasn't fully clear. Patches were missing, but it was there. If she could just reach a bit more, she might have it. For now, she shook her head and looked to Giovanni. "He said I had to help you. If I did then I could go back. To my time. Back home."

Though she was confident in her purpose here, her hope with the man before her was not. His face had only grown darker still as she spoke, and his shoulders seemed more burdened with each and every word that came from her mouth. His eyes moved from her to the Clock, as if trying to understand, or perhaps he already did, and he was only thinking what to do with it—and her.

Sighing for the first time, the man turned away, touching at the white fireplace behind him. It was perhaps a form of comfort, but she couldn't tell. It didn't help the place was so dark; it made it seem as though the walls were closing in on them—or perhaps just her. Certainly, breathing seemed more difficult now. Her heart raced fast, though she wasn't as afraid as before. No, this was an anxiety that ate her like a disease, and made her mind race with uncontrollable fears. So many possibilities, so many outcomes, so many ways to go, and she could think of so few good ones

"Giovanni…?" she tried when he did not speak or move for a long while. His hands had turned almost white as he stood there in his somber silence, and another sigh escaped him as he finally turned back to her. The anger from before was gone, but in its place was something just as fierce, but perhaps that was because she also found a touch of fear. He was afraid, but of what? Of her? No. No, that wasn't possible. The Clock then? Yes, that had to be. It was a powerful thing, but that was why it could help, wasn't it? It was why the "god" had brought her here, right?

"I do not believe you are lying. Regardless if your story is true—and certainly I find it hard to be—you are certain that it is, and so you believe it. What _is_ true, however, is that this is a Piece of Eden, and it cannot stay here," he replied, causing her stomach to drop to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak as he took the Clock into his hand, only to have a shout of pain erupt from his throat instead. He dropped the device immediately, the grooves glaring in a bright light. Catherine could feel a throb through her body—like a pulse. A heartbeat. She could feel the heat of the device even without touching it, and like Giovanni she stared, wide-eyed, at it. They exchanged looks for but a moment before she dared to reach out and touch it, too. It was cool. There was no burn, and she did not cry out in pain.

"It… it hurt you?" she asked softly as she took hold of it, brushing the surface. "I'm… am I the only who can use it then? Did it burn you? Are you alright?"

The man held up his hand, which looked completely fine, "If you are the only one who can wield this, then that is a small relief. The danger remains, and my word stands. Neither you nor this Clock may remain here. It is too dangerous."

Her stomach dropped again, "What!? No! I have to help! It's the only way I can go home! You can't send me away!"

"And what will you do, hmm? How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"I'm nineteen—an adult!"

"But a child still! And what do you hope to do? Can you fight? Do you have our skills? Have you trained in the art of our ways? Do you even know who our enemies are?" he snapped back, and she shrunk at once. She kept hold of a small flame, though, determined to secure her way home.

"I have some skills! Maybe not your—your _assassin_ skills, but I can fight! I know how to take someone down!"

His glare was searing, though, and it silenced her, "Can you take on armed guards? Men who will set a sword to your throat without hesitation? Can you escape into a crowd? Can you hide from all eyes? Can you move without being seen? If you cannot even do these things, then you can do nothing. You are a child given an item of immense power, perhaps deluded by someone into thinking you might help. Perhaps you are right, though—perhaps some 'god' sent you to aid us, but what can you _do? _As you are now, you are a liability. You are a threat to this Order."

There was a lingering silence, as if words left unspoken. She didn't know what they were, but she supposed that didn't matter. Her hopes were dead. She couldn't go home—not anymore. The person she was supposed to help wouldn't let her, and she would be here forever. Her eyes stung from the disappointment and frustration, but she was not one to burst into tears. Instead, she bit her tongue hard and met his gaze, though hers held no true strength. She was beaten.

"What would you have me do then? I can't go home. I have no home here. I have _nowhere_ to go. You were the one I was supposed to help—the one that could let me go home," she replied, her voice hardly above a whisper as she bit back her sobs.

"You must be taken someplace safer, more secure. A place you may be protected from our enemies, should they know you are here. I suspect they do not, but I will not take that chance. However, moving you will take time. More time than I would like, but there _is_ such a place. You will be safe there until we might understand this 'Clock' better, and also why you are here and what you might do."

Catherine sighed deeply, nodded, "Alright."

"As I said, it will take some time to prepare. You will have to remain here with my family. I would rather you kept far from this place, but I am left with few options on such short notice," he continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You are certain you have no home here, though? No family? Nothing?"

"No. I'm from the _future_, and any ancestors would be in England or Scotland, but I don't even know all my ancestors!" she shouted back with exasperation, throwing one arm up. She heard him sigh again—she could no longer look at him—and she wanted to think it was one born from pity, but she didn't know anything anymore.

"England and Scotland… yes… you fit the appearance, although your Italian… hmm… but perhaps," Giovanni rumbled, rubbing his chin more, and she looked to him at last, if only to see what he was doing. As she raised a brow, he came around to stand near her and motioned for her to rise. She did as told, and he gave her a proper look over. "You are nineteen… above normal marriageable age, but… perhaps… yes… it could work."

"Um… excuse me…?"

"You will need a story for your stay here. Something to explain your sudden appearance and residence until you may leave. Few of my family knows of my work, nor do friends and my fellow workers. I would rather keep it that way."

She looked down at the Clock, squeezing it; blaming it, "Oh. That… that's smart. What did you have in mind?"

"The daughter of a banker—one I owe a great favor to. You will be the sole child of… hmm… what _is_ your name, again? Catherine, yes?"

"Catherine Wolfe—with an 'e' at the end," she replied, and wondered how he could seem so different. Gone was the furious, deadly man. He was more… well, focused, she supposed. His mind was working so quickly, she wasn't sure she could keep up.

"Catherine Wolfe… daughter of Richard Wolfe. An English Banker. I did work there once. We would have met at a meeting and perhaps he saved me from a terrible action. Perhaps he might even be an Assassin—if only to satisfy those who know. For now, though, we must keep it simple. The best lies are the simple ones," he continued, that mind of his still racing. "You are his sole child, and so he has sent you here while he deals with some business for protection. It is not unheard of for a banker to have enemies or those who dislike him."

She nodded, "So… he… worries for me. He wanted me to be safe because I'm all he has. My mother died—perhaps in childbirth?"

"Yes. Good. You do not know how long you will stay, though; his business will take some time."

"Um… And, ah… he… dressed me like… this… because he did not have a boy?" she tested, knowing her attire was "wrong", but Giovanni shook his head.

"No—not fully. It is also for your protection. His enemies may know he has a daughter. To dress as a boy would hide you better. You—what of your other clothes? Do you have more besides them?"

"No… just these," Catherine replied, holding out her bundle. The man took them, looking at them oddly. She wasn't surprised. He would have never seen or felt such material.

"These… are… strange," he hummed, looking at her.

"They're normal from where and when I'm from."

"You… they should not be seen. We must keep these hidden and obtain new clothes for you. I will keep them here. Annetta will know where my wife and sons' old clothes are."

She winced, "I'll… need to wear dresses."

He smiled slightly, amused, "Indeed. I will allow you boy clothes for the sake of secrecy, but you are a young woman. You will be expected to look the part as well. I assume this, too, is not custom from where—and _when_—you are from?"

"Er, no," she replied, flushing a little and looked away as she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Women can wear what they like. A lot like dresses, but I preferred pants and shirts. And, ah… I don't think normal women have the same etiquette, ah, requirements. I'm pretty sure I won't know how to act how women do in this age."

"Indeed… you do not act as a proper lady… no, you are more like my Claudia, which is perhaps not so bad, but will not help you. My wife, Maria, will see to that. She will teach you. You need only hold to this story and not speak a word of anything that has been said in this room."

Catherine looked to him sharply, and the fierce anger returned. Here was the man she had feared and did so again, though knew it was because he had much to protect now. She understood the reasons, and so nodded. Still, he grasped her arm to pull her close; squeezed to show the weight of his word.

"Should you do anything—speak a word you should not, act in a way that compromises you or my family, or endanger us or the Brotherhood… should this be your true purpose and all this an elaborate, well played lie… I will end you."

The redhead swallowed hard and uneasily as she nodded, knowing he _would_ do just that. She just prayed she could uphold his expectations. She would have to check herself so much; make sure she didn't say anything unusual or out of the ordinary… God, help her.

"Good… now, Catherine, you remember your story?" he asked after releasing her arm, and she nodded. "Excellent. Stick to it as best you can. If you must add to it, keep it simple and reasonable. Try to act normal; as though you are the daughter of a banker. My family will be lenient, but they are not fools. I will do what I can to help, as will my wife, but you must hold to your end. For now, though, I will do the talking."

"I'm okay with that… I'm… this is all kind of overwhelming," she admitted, and at last he gave her a small smile. She almost hadn't thought him possible.

"Give it time," he replied, but she could only smile back weakly, eyes to the ground. She felt his hand on her shoulder a moment later, and she found a very different man from before yet again. There was sympathy in his eyes, and she could see the father and husband underneath his formerly cold demeanor. "Catherine… I am sorry for the fate that has befallen you."

"Thank-you. I think. I'm not really sure what this is beyond being stuck in the past, far from home," she sighed, giving him a thankful look, although she was no longer confident about her path. If anything, she was beginning to wonder why her? It didn't seem fair. What had she done to deserve this? Another sigh escape her as she turned her gaze to the door. "Before we go out there… what _is_ the date, and where am I? I think I should probably know that at very least."

Giovanni chuckled ever so slightly, "It is the fifth of July in the year fourteen seventy-six. A most…. unusual day in the city if Florence."

All Catherine could do was give a short, pitiful laugh.

**July 5, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

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_01 - End_

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**TMWolf **_\- Fun fact time! I was _originally _going to make the dog a big deal and even name him Ceaser... but scrapped that when I decided it was too silly. Really, I only did it because I love dogs, but ultimately it was just a silly thing that didn't really make much sense, sooo yep. Not doggie for 'Cat ;(_

_Anyways. You guys maaaay have noticed the date at the end there. If you know the game timeline really well, you'll notice this take almost 7 MONTHS before the actual game starts! This means a few things will be a bit different for our characters, but just small things. You'll see it as you go, and I plan to flesh out our lovely Assassin family, so expect lots of fun times with them.. and one other character that will show up soon-ish. For now, we start off with Giovanni! Sorry if he seems kinda mean here, but in my head, he _would_be when dealing with something like Catherine and what she has. He has a family to protect and all, and he is an Assassin. I mean, you'd be kinda worried if that happened, too, right? Well, either way, fret not-Giovanni isn't a total mean/grouchy guy in my head canon, so he won't be like this all the time. Just at the moment as he works through things ;)_

_Right. So. We've met one Auditore, it's time to meet others next chapter and work on getting Catherine settled into life with them! Oh, it won't be easy of course, and it won't be terribly long, either, but a lot will still happen, I guarantee you that! I think you fangirls will appreciate chapter 2 a lot more, so bear with me.. there is some sassy Italians next chapter ;D_

_As always, feel free to review/PM questions and I'll do my best to answer without spoiling! Some things I will have to refuse to answer because of spoilers, but expect that a _lot_ of things will be answered in the long run-it just may take a long time! I promise I have reasons for (most) everything!_


	3. Many Meetings I

**TMWolf: **_Whelp! Time for chapter two guys! Unfortunately, I have to let you all know that the next chapter probably won't be for a while. I have a big test coming up and I have some club duties to attend to all next week, so I won't have as much time to work on writing. I promise I'll update as soon as I can, though! Anyways, thanks for all the reviews, guys! I appreciate it and hope you'll continue to like it! I think you'll enjoy this chapter... if only because our favorite Italian boy comes in ;)_

_Right, so, before you get going, just wanna put this out there: Because this story starts MONTHS in advance, I get to play around with characters more. As such, a LOT of what you'll read in Act I is **my** interpretation of the characters. Even Ezio is a bit of my interpretation because we actually don't see much of his pre-game life before he had to harden some. Also, it is important for you guys to know that **Ezio has not met Cristina** yet. This might not necessarily be obvious at first, so I figured I should avoid that question now. Anyways. Right. So, as I said, the characterization of the Auditore's in Act 1 is going to be my own intepretation of them based off the books and the games-for what little we see of three of them... well, technically four since we don't see Maria much. I **do** draw on a lot of canonical information, though, so not all of it is made up or just me taking some license._

_And that's all I have to say on that bid. Figured it was important to be known, so there we go!_

_To 0 aka Whoa: Thanks! I'm so glad you liked it! Hope this one is just as good! :D_

_This chapter's song title is from a movie a lot of you should know-Lord of the Rings! It was too good of a title to not use, and I promise to eventually use a song title of a song with actual lyrics eventually, ha ha._

_That's about all I have to say for now. As always, please let me know if there are any grammar/spelling/word errors and don't be afraid to let me know what you think or ask questions! :)_

Enjoy!

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_**02 **__– Many Meetings Part 1_

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**July 5, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Sometimes, when it was a long drive and she had her music, Catherine would imagine herself going on long adventure to all kinds of places. They could be magical or futuristic or even in the past. Whatever the case, she would gain some magical artifact and comrades of all kinds to complete the journey. They would slay a beast or villain and save the world—make things right. Some might die, some might survive and live happily, some would find love, and sometimes she was forced back home or got to be with her lover. It was always a fantastic adventure, and it was a horrid thing when the drive was finally over. At the same time, though, it also meant she could go on another adventure on the way back.

As such, the irony was strong for Catherine; here she was, living one of her dreams… and it was awful. Everything had gone wrong in less than an hour, and she was certain she wouldn't be going home—_ever_. There were no allies or lover or anything for her, either. She was alone even if this Assassin Brotherhood would be "keeping her safe". The worst part was that this ride never ended.

"If that is all, shall we?" Giovanni spoke up, pulling her from her thoughts. She met his eyes for a moment, wishing there was something more there for her—that he would suddenly change his mind and _help_ her, but it was not to be. She sighed mentally as he nodded, preparing herself for what more might come. Although, she supposed it couldn't get any worse.

For a moment, she thought it would.

Just as the older man reached for the door, there was a knock on it. She jumped a little—a flash of embarrassment went through her—and looked to the exit. Giovanni was less surprised; in fact, he seemed a bit amused by her reaction, and opened the door to reveal a young man. He looked maybe her age, or a bit younger. He was taller than her by a few inches, though, and he had a strong jaw that made him appear older than the might be. He had some of Giovanni's features with a somewhat long, broad nose, and dark locks that reached his ears, so she figured he was his son. He wore a dark vest over a poofy white shirt, with dark pants and boots to match. Most striking, though, was how fast his surprised look became a cheesy smirk, and the rather unusual way his dark-colored irises focused on her.

_That_ was not something she expected—the way he stared… She'd rather not think about it, to be honest, and was glad when Giovanni cleared his throat to get the young man's attention. Said young man shifted, as if caught doing something naughty, and bowed his head respectfully before removing a bundle of letters from his pocket which he gave to the older man.

"I have the letters you requested, father," he smiled, and Catherine's assumption was confirmed. She wondered if the young man was an Assassin. He _did_ feel familiar—like she'd seen him before, but where?

The Clock warmed, and the words came to her head: _Ezio Auditore_. She was relieved there was no ache this time, but she did feel weird again. She didn't particular like it, and wished the Clock wouldn't do things without her asking, but she was pretty sure she had no control. _That_, she definitely didn't like, and if she saw that man again… well, first she would beg to be brought back home and then maybe demand a way to have some control in her life right now.

"Ah, thank you, Ezio, and what excellent timing," Giovanni smiled back as he took the letters and then motioned to Catherine. "This is Catherine Wolfe, all the way from England. She will be staying with us for a little while until her father can conclude his business."

The young man smiled, taking her hand and kissing it gently, "A pleasure, my Lady. I guarantee your stay will be most pleasant."

"Uh… t-thank-you?" Catherine replied, stuck between being flustered or severely confused. The way he said it and looked at her and _kissed_ her hand… was he… _flirting_? That—just—really? Was he seriously flirting? She didn't know what to think. First this crazy time travel, everything going down the drain, and now being flirted with? Was this compensation or something or what was going on here? Whatever the case, she was glad he let her go—although he was grinning like he was pleased with himself and up to something—and he stepped aside to let them through. He kept his eyes on her quite a bit, though, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"You are free to do what you wish—I have no further tasks for you, my son. But do behave. I will not hear of any more trouble you have caused!" Giovanni barked quickly, to which the young man winced—obviously he was not a stranger to antics—and nodded apologetically.

"Of course, father. I merely plan to stroll about with Federico—no trouble. I promise."

"Good… I will send him to you, actually. I would like him to meet our guest as well," his father stated, certain his son would obey, and motioned for Catherine to follow. The redhead did as told, though stole a glance back at the young man, whom smirked when she did so. She raised a brow in turn, and continued on. Unfortunately, she had a feeling she might be seeing quite a bit of him, which was just oh so wonderful.

She shook the uneasiness away to marvel at the courtyard for the last few moments they were outside of it. It was lavish with its smooth, light-colored stone walls and floors, marble columns and benches around the edges, and then a metal edge above that lined one side. She wouldn't mind sitting out in it, especially with the cool shade it provided. Of course, it hardly compared to the main part of the palace, which was more lavish than any house she'd been in that wasn't a castle. The walls, rugs, floor, and siding were similar to his office—reds, a cool marble, and various other colors—and dark, wooden furniture was lined all around. Golden-framed portraits were hung on the walls along with mirrors and other metal workings of intense detail. There was even small working in the wall siding and red paint, and the rest of the furniture was just so lavish she almost couldn't believe it. Shelves of books lined various walls, and her inner reader would have jumped for joy if her situation were different. Not to mention they were probably in Italian, which she couldn't read.

_'Wait,'_ she paused, and was glad Giovanni did, too, talking with someone in the hall. She looked at the books and, indeed, they were in Italian, but she understood it. She looked back to the man and the woman he was talking to and she understood everything they said, too. _'But… this is Italy. Renaissance Italy. They speak Italian. I don't speak Italian. He understood me, though. But… how?'_

The answer came soon enough, and she instinctively touched at the bundle of clothes beneath her arm. The Clock. It was a time machine and apparently an information hub. She supposed that wouldn't make knowing Italian perfectly and speaking it that hard to fathom. Still… to think it could do _that_… it was crazy. Then again, all of this was crazy.

"Catherine," Giovanni called, and she looked up quickly to find both he and the woman looking at her as if they'd called more than once. They probably had. They had her attention now, though, so the older man brought the woman towards her. She was dressed in far less fancy robes than Giovanni—his were a deep red, black, and white with fanciful designs while hers plain, simple, and dirty—and so she already had a notion who she might be. "This is Annetta. She is our maid, and will see to your needs. She will take care of your belongings—except for your father's watch, of course. I know you do not wish to be parted from it."

The redhead frowned, confused at first, but then understood and pulled her things from her cloak. She made sure to free the Clock and slip it into the pocket of her vest. It felt heavy there, but she ignored it as she held out her clothes. The woman reached for them, and Catherine found herself reluctant to let it go. She certainly hesitated, but ultimately let Annetta take them. If she found the bundle odd, she did not show it, and gave Giovanni a small, but noticeable glance before she headed off towards the way they had come. The redhead watched her go, wondering if she would ever see her clothes again.

"She is merely returning them to my office. I forgot to have you leave them there," Giovanni stated, no doubt having noticed her unease. "She is aware of my activities and knows what must be done. You need not worry about her inquiring about who you are or what you do. Should you require aid and I am not around, you may seek her out."

"I… ah, thank-you. I'm sure I'll need it," she replied, a bit numb now.

"And just who is the fine young lady, my dear husband?" a smooth voice called out just as a woman appeared, carrying an air of such nobility Catherine almost thought she was a queen. She bore no crown, yet she walked so perfectly in her red gown, she wouldn't have even needed it. To Giovanni, though, she was far more than that, and he happily took her hand in his and kissed her gently on the lips.

"This, my dearest Maria, is Catherine Wolfe. She is the daughter of a _business_ associate of mine from England—Richard Wolfe. You may not know him; we met when I was visiting his home. I owe him a favor, though, and he has come calling with his Catherine. I'm afraid it was short notice, but he requires a sanctuary for his daughter until his business is done," he explained, and all the while there was this knowing look on the woman's face.

_'She's one of the ones that know. So… Annetta and… Maria know,' _Catherine mused, looking at the woman carefully. Her face showed she wasn't quite in her youth, but she still had many years ahead of her. She was strong, too, Catherine knew. Not, perhaps, in physical strength, but there a sense of power to her. She knew she would regret it if she ever crossed the woman. As such, she straightened when Maria looked her over, smiling carefully, but knowingly as well.

"Quite the interesting attire, my dear," she hummed, and Catherine flushed. Her clothes were so inadequate in comparison, and though she hated dresses she wished she was in one now.

"Not entirely her fault—her arrival required secrecy. Annetta will procure her the proper clothes shortly. She will require your… _aid_, as well," Giovanni smiled, to which his wife raised a brow, but it was obvious she understood. She looked back to Catherine and nodded.

"I will be happy to help, although perhaps when you are better settled in and relaxed, no?" Maria smiled, and the redhead was grateful. She really needed a long rest after all this. If she was lucky she'd wake up and be back home, but she doubted that. Still, it was a nice hope, she supposed.

"My love, where are the others? She and Ezio already met, but I would have our children meet her as well."

"Petruccio is resting—he was a little ill this morning, Claudia is out with her friends, and Federico is somewhere in here—ah! Federico, there you are! Come, we have a guest you must meet!" the woman called out to the young man descending the stairs. He had a somewhat round, but still strong face, with a broad nose, and dark hair that reached his jawline. He had a bit of scruff, and a grin that was more friendly and jovial than how Ezio's was. Federico was about the same height as his brother, but looked older; more mature. He also wore red garbs like his father, with black-and-white sleeves, though his was more like a tunic.

"Of course, Mother, although Ezio and I do have plans to head into the city," the young man replied as he strolled over and turned his gaze to Catherine. Like his brother, he took her hand and kissed it gently, but she got less of the uneasy feeling from him. Actually, the only unease was just that she didn't know him, and worrying about how there were more and _more_ people she had to keep her secret from. Honestly, it was like Giovanni _wanted_ it to be difficult. "A pleasure, my Lady."

"This is Catherine Wolfe, a daughter to a business associate of mine. She will be staying with us until he has finished. I trust you will treat her well?" his father spoke next, and the young man nodded with a chuckle.

"Of course! You need not worry about me, Father. But do forgive my rudeness—Ezio and I wish to be out before dark."

Maria stepped forward, motioning to the redhead, "You should take Catherine for a tour. I am sure she has had no time to properly see the city."

"Huh? Oh! But no, I couldn't I—ah," the young woman rambled, looking to Giovanni. Her? Go out? Right now? No. She couldn't. It was dangerous, wasn't it? What if a Templar—their enemies—saw them? And then what if something else happened? What is someone saw her in boy clothes or what?

"Maria, Catherine has had a long journey," the husband began, but paused when Maria touched his arm.

"Federico, go wait with your brother," the woman mused, and her son nodded before he scampered off while she looked to her husband. "She should learn the city while she is here in case there is trouble—after all, you surely do not expect her to stay within the _Palazzo_ the whole time? The Assassins do require secrecy, but that is maintained by retaining a sense of normality, no?"

"Maria, this is a… _particular_ situation," Giovani began with a sigh, but his wife simple gave him a look.

"Which is why we will have the boys go with her. They will keep her safe."

"Um… don't… what if… the Tem—er the 'enemy' know I'm here? I mean, I don't know if they do. Won't that… won't they come after me?" Catherine spoke up, trying to help Giovanni. Sure, not being cooped up in here was nice, but if it was dangerous she'd rather not. She also didn't want to anger the man.

"So you are not certain? Well, then this is the opportunity to find out. If the enemy knows of her, then we would do well to know that they do, no? Again, Federico knows what to do. Ezio can help as well, and they are both capable of escaping any pursuers and helping others do the same—you and I have received enough complaints to know," the older woman smiled slyly, and the mental groan was obvious in the way Giovanni's shoulders deflated. "Besides, we have much to talk about, dear husband… since she arrived on such short notice."

"This… is true. I did wish to speak to you… I suppose it would do well to see if the Templars know of her… and that she have her bearings here," the man hummed, gaze settling on Catherine. "My wife has a point. Personally, I would rather you remain here a bit longer before being allowed out, but perhaps it would do well. I can better prepare things, and Annetta will have your new garbs by then. You must be careful, though. Refrain from drawing attention to yourself. Tell Federico to be 'watchful'. He will understand."

"You… you're sure? What about—you know," the redhead tried. It just couldn't be that easy. First he was putting her in a cage, and now he was giving her some freedom? It was too good to be true.

"Keep it hidden and keep your head low. Again, my son will keep you safe. He knows what to do."

"Indeed, now go on, my dear. Tell him what we said, and by the time you return, you can settle in proper," Maria added and then took the older man's arm. "Now, my husband, you and I must have a chat."

"Indeed. Mind yourself, Catherine, and stay close to Federico," Giovanni nodded before he touched his wife's hand, turned with her, and headed down the hallway. Catherine was left alone, baffled. She could scarcely believe it. One second, she was suffocating and sure she'd be kept in this tiny bubble for the rest of her life or at least her time here, and now she… she was being allowed out? Already? Oh, sure, there was logic behind it, but it just seemed impossible! Yet, here she was, heart hammering, and that little hope coming back. She knew she shouldn't, but there was no stopping it. If he would let her roam, then maybe he would eventually let her help!

_'No, that's too much. He won't do that, but… well, maybe he'll be more lenient. Maybe_,' she sighed softly, touching at the Clock within her pocket. If only she could make use of the device, then maybe she could help as needed. Then she was reminded of what it had done and wasn't so sure she _wanted_ to use it. It only ever brought her pain, after all. Unfortunately, she had a feeling she would have to use it one day regardless. Joy.

Sighing again and shaking her head, the redhead turned around and made back the way Giovanni has brought her in. It was simple to get back, and she marveled again at the courtyard. It really was pretty, and both young men were there in the center, playfully batting one another as they exchanged brotherly barbs. She paused to take in a deep breath, briefly wondering if she could do this. Was it really safe? Was it really okay? Their parents seemed to think so, but she was just so riddled with doubt. However, if there was anything Catherine was decently good at, it was knowing how to stop giving a crap and just go through with things.

"So. Federico… and Ezio, right?" she spoke up as politely as she could.

"You remember," the younger brother smirked, as if so proud of himself, and she wanted to raise her brow, but held back as Federico chuckled.

"Yes, that's right. And you are Catherine, our companion for today. It is our honor to guide you through the beautiful city of _Firenze_," he replied, bowing as if in a royal court. The gesture made her chuckle back, and she did the best curtesy she could, which she imagined wasn't all that great.

"The honor is mine… although, your father and mother had a message—they said to be… watchful?" she spoke, hoping the added unsure tone made it seem like she didn't necessarily know—if only to not hint anything to the younger brother. Their parents had made it kind of obvious they wanted to keep Ezio in the dark. She didn't dare question as to why, and neither did Federico, it seemed, as recognition passed over his features, but he said nothing about it. Ezio, though, frowned, and put his hands on his hips.

"Wait—she's coming with us? I thought we would be having fun tonight!" he huffed, but his brother merely rolled his eyes and slung an arm over the younger man's shoulders.

"A special request from father, baby brother. Besides, since when do you turn down the chance to take a lovely lady on a tour?"

"Hmm… that is true," he hummed, looking over at the redhead, whom flushed. "Although, she certainly doesn't look the part."

Her flush deepened, although with a touch of anger. She was starting to regret this. Was there no one else to go with? And it wasn't her fault she only had this to wear! Honestly, did he not have manners? Who cared, anyways?

"You simply have no imagination, Ezio. Come on. It is our duty to keep her safe. That means no running off, baby brother," Federico chuckled, clapping the young man on the back, whom groaned with annoyance. Catherine made sure to give him a small glare, but refused to look at him after. First that unsettling grin he gave her, then the insults, and now _that_? Jeez. She preferred when guys ignored her at this point.

'_Well, hopefully he gets less annoying as we go,'_ she rumbled as she pulled her hood over her head, figuring she could do so for secrecy. It was not to be, though, as it was pulled down a moment later by the older brother.

"No need to hide your face, my lady. You are in good hands! Besides, it would block your view of the city."

"Ah, alright. So, um, lead the way? I've never been here, so…"

"Yes, yes, let's go! It'll be dark before we even get to the _Duomo_!" Ezio barked, throwing his hand into the air as he headed out before them through the gate. Federico motioned for Catherine to go on ahead, smiling warmly. When she came close, he whispered to her.

"Don't worry; you will be safe. You do not need to be so cautious around us."

Catherine glanced at him, but merely nodded. It was a relief, of sorts, but she still had to be cautious. She knew better than to act like her usual self. _That_ was hardly how a lady of the Renaissance acted, and she didn't need to get in trouble or found out. She could potentially lie her way through, but she didn't want to garner more ill will from Giovanni. God, this was going to be hard, though—_especially_ if that Ezio boy kept bothering her. What was with him, anyways? He was like some Don Juan, but terrible at getting the girl part. Then again, she was probably just that sect of girls that found his kind of flirting ridiculous and annoying.

She would just have to make do, and it helped that, now that she _could_ look around, the city was amazing. Breath-taking, actually. She had been to Italy before coming to Scotland, but everything had either been modern or in ruins. Here, though, everything was real and whole and just beautiful. She knew the Renaissance had made great things, but she hadn't though _this_ great! She honestly wanted to see it all, but that wouldn't be possible in just a few hours. Even so, she was already seeing a lot, and though it was terribly different from her time, she found it endearing. All the shop keepers had such fancy wares or goods, and the open areas with fountains or statues or some other scenic feature were gorgeous.

"Enjoying the view?" Federico asked after they had walked what felt only moment, but she couldn't be sure. Without any clocks or even her phone, it wasn't really possible to tell, but the sun was still not yet to the horizon, so she guessed maybe it was three or four.

She smiled and nodded, "Yes! It's beautiful! I wish it was like this back home."

"Back in… England, yes?" Ezio piped up next, having been a little nice through the walk and keeping himself occupied with other things.

"Hm? Oh! Yes. England is wonderful, but it does lack what your home has," she replied, marveling at the nearby buildings with their mostly smooth stones and orange roof tiles.

"But of course! There is no beauty that matches _Firenze_'s!" Federico laughed. "No offense, of course. I am sure where you are from is quite charming as well."

"None taken," Catherine chuckled back, glad at least one of the brother's was a gentleman. "Your pride is well deserved, anyways. I've traveled some, but this place is certainly one of the best."

"Your father took you with him?" the elder brother inquired, and the redhead had to pause to remember her story. Right. Her father. An Assassin, posing as a banker.

"Ah, yes. Sometimes, but not often. I was his only child, so he would worry. Mostly I've just been to other parts of England or Scotland, though."

"Oh? Your Italian is quite good for one who has not been here much."

Her heart skipped a beat. Right. The Clock. It somehow made her speak and understand Italian. Damn the thing.

"My father did lots of business here—in Italy. I got interested, so he hired a tutor for me. Obviously, he didn't intend for me to be a banker, but he, ah, liked to spoil me, I suppose is the best way to put it," she smiled sheepishly.

"Sounds like our Claudia. I see you did not obtain a temper to go with it, though."

She shrugged, "Well, my father always tried to ensure I was humble."

"Yeesh, are you quite done yet?" Ezio barked suddenly, a hand on his hip as he looked accusingly at his brother, whom raised a brow back.

"If you would like to speak to her, then feel free to, baby brother. It requires you actually _saying_ something to her, though," Federico smirked, and then winked at Catherine. "He has trouble talking to beautiful women still."

"Wha—I do not!" the young man snapped, shoving his brother, while Catherine hid her blush with a laugh. Ezio gave her a stupid grin that made it seem like he was trying to look charming. "I am more than capable, I assure you! I simply wait for the right moment to strike."

All blushing faded as she raised a brow again, "Uh-huh."

She had a lot more she wanted to say, but she kept the warning about acting like her usual self in mind. As such, she held her tongue, although the young man caught onto her disbelief easily enough. He glared at his brother, whom just beamed with such amusement she almost laughed aloud again. Thankfully, the elder brother got them moving once more, taking them through another market place.

"Besides, we both know I'm the better looking of the two of us," Ezio purred, hardly put off.

"If you say so, baby brother," Federico hummed back, hardly swayed. It was adorable, really, how they competed, and yet it was obvious who the winner was every time.

"I do! Catherine, surely this face is irresistible, no?" he piped up, pulling in front of the redhead to pose himself before her. She looked him up and down, giving him her best "you're joking, right?" expression.

"If you say so," she replied at last, much to Federico's amusement, hidden behind stifled snickering.

Ezio made a sound of pain as he clutched his chest, "Ah! You wound me, my lady! But perhaps I can convince you, otherwise? Such beauty should not walk alone, after all! I would be happy to provide escort."

"Aren't you already escorting me?"

"Ah, but this is the Federico tour!" he exclaimed as he took her arm and pulled her close. Again, that odd smile of his appeared as he leaned close. The uneasiness returned, and she wanted to smack him a little. "Now, the _Ezio_ tour… well, that is far grander and far more…_sensational_."

"Oh, really? And what, pray tell, does it involve?" she inquired, just about flabbergasted. Was he seriously this bad? In a way it was adorable because it _was_ so bad, but in another, she didn't see how women fell for it. _Did_ women fall for it? They must have with how confident he seemed. Then again, Federico was grinning like a fool—like he knew it was a train wreck.

"Well, if you must know," Ezio purred, and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The motion did make her flush, but was nowhere near enough to sway her. "A walk by the _Duomo_, a lovely view of the sunset, and then… well, the rest I cannot say. I prefer to leave it to the imagination. But I assure you, it you will never forget your time here in _Firenze_."

He had cupped her chin then, as if it was alright for him to do so. He'd brought his face a bit closer, and she was all kinds of uncomfortable, though he seemed to not pick up on that. She didn't know if that was from inexperience or just over confidence. Either way, she'd had enough of it, and before she could stop herself, she smacked his hand away, wrenched her arm free, and gave him a glare.

"I'm sorry, but does anyone actually fall for this _crap_? You're taking your _own_ tour tonight, I assure you that!" she snapped, and then slapped her hand to her mouth. "Oh, shit I actually said that out loud!"

Behind her, Federico burst into laughter while Ezio looked on with pure confusion. The older brother was practically busting his gut, but he managed to contain it as he clapped his younger sibling on the shoulder.

"I told you that does not work, Ezio!" he sniggered, while Catherine looked on with wide, shocked eyes.

"Oh my God, I can't believe I said that. Shit! Oh shit—I mean—shit! Oh God, I keep cursing, I'm sorry! I shouldn't be talking like that!" she gasped, knowing her stupid façade was over. By some miracle, Federico only laughed more and waved her off.

"No, no, go on—it's quite enjoyable to see a woman stun my baby brother like that! You're certainly not the first to speak so sharply, either. Claudia has said far worse, I assure you."

She frowned, scrunching her brow, "So... you… I don't have to act all, you know, noble lady like and everything?"

"Well, not around us, anyways. Around Father and Mother, yes, but none of us ever act proper otherwise," the eldest smirked, and a huge wage of relief came over Catherine.

"Oh, thank God… I am _not_ good at doing the lady act."

"Obviously your father did not have you tutored in that," Ezio huffed, no doubt trying to save face, but he was more of a butt-hurt child than anything else.

She snorted, "Excuse me for having other interests than swooning at the sight of you and giving into terrible wooing."

"She's right—you are terrible, Ezio."

"Alright, alright! It wasn't my best shot, but I can be charming! Just give me another chance!" the young man practically pouted, looking at her eagerly for approval. Once more, her brow raised, but mostly because the unnerving young man was gone and in his place was a young adolescent who actually seemed a little adorable—like a puppy vying for attention. He was even clasping his hand together pleadingly with his bottom lip pulled up some.

"_Can_ he be charming?" she asked Federico, whom shrugged. She looked to Ezio, the man still pouting, and sighed. "Fine, fine. You can try again."

"Ah! Thank-you, my lady! You are most kind!" he laughed, taking her hand to kiss it, but she pulled it away before he could, waggling her finger at him.

"Ah-ah. No more for today. You've used up your charm. Besides, I want to see more of the city."

"Of course! We can't deny the request of a lady! You'll just have to save your 'charm' for later, baby brother," the older sibling smiled and motioned for Catherine to follow. The redhead spared Ezio a glance, catching him watching her as he had before. She rolled her eyes and trotted after Federico to keep up, all the while wondering what she had unleashed.

**-O-**

Hell.

That was what she'd unleashed. Just a small section of it, but it was hell; she was sure of it. Ezio apparently didn't understand what "you used up your charm" meant, and insisted on flirting at every possible moment. To make matters worse, she finally found out his age—he was only seventeen! Oh, sure, by Renaissance standards he was a man, but to her time's he was a child and she was an adult! Nineteen! She felt terrible letting him flirt on, but apparently that wasn't a problem in the Middle Ages, so there was nothing to be done. He wouldn't let her stop him, anyways, and he'd spent the next few hours of their tour prodding her here and there, teasing her profusely.

Of course, that also made her fairly self-conscious and she couldn't help notice some of the stares from the people around them. No one came near—not even the guard—and she figured it was thanks to the Auditore's presence, and probably his teasing. Still… Well, if there was any real _good_ thing, it was that the flirts weren't nearly as bad as the "tour" attempt. No, these were actually charming, but she knew he was just trying to be annoying. Not to mention she actually was doing her best to enjoy the city despite everything.

Federico hadn't helped, either. Rather, she knew he was enjoying it, and having the time of his life watching his "baby brother" rattle her and she, in turn, counter ever flirt with a quick quip. That was the other good thing—they really didn't seem to mind she didn't act proper. She suspected it had to do with their sister, but whatever the case she was happy to act more like herself around them. It definitely helped relieve a lot of the tension from before, and she honestly hated when she realized the sky was growing dark. The feeling came to a swell when Federico stopped them along a street and noticed the same thing.

"Shit. We stayed out too late—we'll be late for dinner now. Mother is going to have our hides," he groaned, shaking his head.

"What are you talking about? We can just take the roofs—we'll get there in no time," Ezio replied, motioning above them. Catherine looked at the roofs, trying to figure out what he meant. He didn't seriously mean like running across them, did he?

"Hmm, that is true, but… no, we have Catherine."

"Well, maybe one of us go ahead and explain thing or—."

Catherine coughed to get their attention, "What was that about the rooftops? You meant running on them to get home, right?"

"Oh, yes. Ezio and I do it all the time, but it is too dangerous for you," Federico waved her off as he turned to his brother, but the redhead huffed slightly.

"I'll do it."

Both young men paused and turned to stare. She wasn't surprised. It was pretty stupid to say. Maybe even really, _really_ stupid, but she was feeling daring after being herself for so long with them. That, and she would have been lying if she said she'd never wanted to try it.

"Catherine, no, it's too—."

"I'll do it. Just get me a way up—like a ladder or something, and I'll do it."

Both boys looked to one another, obviously having some silent conversation. She could tell Federico was unsure in the way he frowned and shook his head, but Ezio was on her side, oddly enough. He made various gestures, giving his brother a look back, and eventually the elder sighed as he rubbed a hand through the back of his hair.

"Alright, alright. If you're _sure_," he replied, looking to her now, and she nodded. Truthfully, she wasn't sure, but she still wanted to. "Alright then. Come on—I remember a ladder not far from here. Ezio, get to the roofs and scout ahead."

The younger brother nodded and then suddenly turned into a monkey as he scaled up to the side of the building like it was nothing. She couldn't help staring, wondering how the hell that was possible. What was he even grabbing onto to get up there? She couldn't help feeling a small pang of jealousy, too—she had always wanted to do something like that, but she could barely even get up on the stupid climbing rope in a gym and pull-ups were awful. He made it seem like nothing, though, and she bet Federico could do the same.

"Catherine, here—I found one," the older brother called out, freeing her from her stupor, and she jogged over. Sure enough, there was a ladder, and he brought her to it. He motioned her up, and she did just that. It was a little odd being on a roof—she'd been on one a long time ago when helping her father, but it had been angled and extremely slick—but it wasn't that bad. The roofs were fairly flat except in some places, and made of clay tile so she didn't start slipping right away. It did make the distinct "clinking" sound beneath her heel, though, but no one was around to hear except the brothers, the younger of whom was trotting to them.

"Looks like we're clear—not many guards out," he nodded.

"Just a warning—I've never run across a roof, so don't worry if I fall behind," the redhead added, to which Ezio grinned.

"Come now, we could not leave a damsel in distress! Who do you think we are?"

"Do you really want me to answer that about you?"

Federico nudged them both onward, "You can fight later—we need to hurry back or we won't live to fight at all!"

"Your mother is _that_ strict?" Catherine inquired, wincing. She winced more when she saw the dread worm its way into their features.

"You have no idea."

That was all she needed to hear, and they were off. True to their word, they kept with her, although she knew they could go a lot faster. They made sure to take the easiest path for her, too, which wasn't necessarily the quickest; she noticed when they would go the long way around a spot with a jump that might not be easy for her. She was thankful for it, although felt a little bad. She was holding them back, and though they didn't seem to mind, she couldn't help feeling how she did. She supposed, at the very least, she was making the trip back so faster, and if she looked closely, she could see the top of the _Palazzo_ and the flags getting closer and closer. It was also pretty exhilarating jumping and running across the roofs. She really wished she'd tried it back home, but then again, there weren't exactly roofs for her to run across where she lived.

"Good… we should be on time at this rate," the elder brother hummed as they paused and he looked towards their home. Catherine panted lightly, but she was hardly tired. She thanked her daily jogging, exercise, and sports in High School. It might have been two years since the latter, but she still had her abilities.

"Just a few more jumps," Ezio stated before he took the lead, and, indeed, their home seemed just a few jumps away. Of course, life had proven to the redhead that it was _never_ that easy or loving. She was sorely reminded when she came to the last jump, only, it was very large—enough so none of them could make it. The only thing between them and the other roofs was a platform maintained by ropes, which moved slightly in the small breeze. She looked to the boys, wondering what they were thinking, and of all things, Ezio took a running leap and _jumped_. She made a shout of surprise as she watched him hit the platform, let it move with his momentum, and then leaped safely to the other side.

"What?" she gaped, turning to look at Federico like he was crazy. Actually no—they _were_ crazy. "What was _that!_? Are you seriously going to jump across that?"

Federico chuckled, "Of course! It's not bad at all—I promise. The jump isn't far on either side, and it is stable. We take it all the time, and if you made the other jumps, you can make this one."

"Right, well, if you don't mind I think I'm going to find another ladder down," she whined, looking over the edge to the street that was suddenly a hundred feet farther down than it was.

"Come now—where is that brave woman from before, hmm? I thought you could do this?" the older brother mused, and she gave him a glare. Oh, she knew _exactly _what he was doing, and it was working. Damn that reverse psychology. She knew she shouldn't give in and jump across, but he was _goading_ her! He was jabbing at her pride, making her do it just to save face.

Fine.

"If I die, I'm going to strangle you," she huffed, and, as he always did, Federico laughed while she backed up a few steps.

"Ezio, be ready!" he shouted to his brother, whom grinned, adding to her ever high levels of annoyance. Sure, it was nice he could help, but still. Whatever—she would have her moment, and, taking a deep breath, she went for it.

She took off at a sprint and made the first part of the jump easily enough. She faltered slightly when she felt the platform move beneath her, but she knew she couldn't pause. She had a feeling it'd be bad, but she jumped anyways—and just barely managed to hit the edge. She tried to lean forward, but her angle was bad, and she started going backwards instead. Panic flared and she flailed out, grabbing onto the first thing she could, and pulled herself to it. She clung tight, heart hammering, and looked back at what could have been a nasty drop.

"And here I thought you would never warm up to me," the familiar voice of one Ezio Auditore rumbled, and Catherine looked up to find him smirking at her. It was then she realized she was clinging to his vest, holding herself way too close to him, and so immediately flushed as she released him.

"Don't count on it," she barked back, but the tone was lost on him as he winked with playful snickering. Thankfully, Federico joined them and reminded the younger brother they still had one more jump to get to their roof. Catherine was more thankful than she'd ever been to have him around, and was even more thankful to be back home—if only because she wouldn't have to deal with Ezio anymore. That wasn't to say she didn't remember what awaited her. No, as she started climbing down—God that was nerve wracking, even with the boys assuring they would catch her if she fell, and she was following _exactly_ where they went—she recalled what awaited her and her stomach was churning uneasily.

"Well, that was quite the adventure, no?" Federico inquired as she jumped down, sighing with relief.

She brushed herself off, "Sounds about right. We'll have to do it again some time."

"Indeed… for now, though, let's not inform Mother and Father of what we just did. Keep it our little secret."

"Oh, no worries on that. I rather like being able to act normal while here."

"Hmm, perhaps _I_ should tell then?" Ezio mused, and the redhead gave him an icy glare. He merely grinned, holding his hands up. "Ah, but who am I to deny a lovely lady such pleasure?"

'_Damn right,'_ she rumbled silently, though merely made a huff at him while she followed Federico, whom had started towards the door to the main part of the building.

"Yes, well, if you two are done, we still need to make it to supper," he told them with a snicker as he opened the door for them to enter. Ezio left first, giving Catherine a glance as he went, as if to say "see you there". God, help her, if he kept bothering her… She looked to the older brother, whom was still having the time of his life. "He gets less annoying the longer you know him. And don't worry—I will tell Mother and Father only good things."

She smiled, "Thanks, Federico. I'm glad _one_ of you seems to have manners."

"Give him time. For now… come, let us enjoy a good meal and relax. You've had quite the first day here, no?"

"You have no idea," the redhead managed to laugh, and stepped inside.

**-O-**

With a groan, Catherine collapsed onto the guest bed and smothered her face into the pillows. Needless to say, she was exhausted—both mentally and physically, but while she was too tired to move, her mind kept on racing. So much had happened that there was no way she couldn't think about it, and honestly? She was about ready to start sobbing. She'd held it together during dinner and did her best to satisfy any questions about her "past" and her odd lack of noble demeanor and etiquette. Both Giovanni and Maria helped keep her cover, so she managed to get through that and meet the other two children. Petruccio was a darling little boy, but Claudia was something else—something she didn't want to have to deal with much, especially all her questions. She felt like she'd never get away from them all, and she was getting far too stressed by it all. By some sheer luck, the older man spared her another talk and let Annetta take her to her room so she could rest, which she sorely needed.

_'God, what I have gotten myself into?'_ she groaned, hand moving to the Clock and pulling it free of her pocket. It was all thanks to this stupid thing, and now her life was ruined—over, even. She didn't know how to live here. It was beautiful and amazing, but all so strange and foreign and things _smelled_ different, too. There would be no electricity or air conditioning or refrigerators or cars or _anything_ she knew. This was a whole new world, and she wasn't sure she could get accustomed to it. Her only respite was that the language barrier wasn't a problem, the Auditore's were a really nice family, and Giovanni knew what her stupid fucking Clock was. Otherwise, it was all just a mess and she just wanted to go home!

"Shit!" she choked out as hot tears streamed down her face. To make matters worse, she was. Very scared. This wasn't a safe world—not outside this house or away from the family. No one would be so willing to help, and if these Templars were out there and looking for her, but hadn't found her yet. God, she could already imagine what they would do if they _did _find her, and it was terrifying. She didn't see how anything would work out here and wanted more than ever to wake up and be back home in her bed.

It wasn't to be, though, and so she could only muffle her cries into her pillow as she sobbed and sobbed until there was nothing left and even her mind was too tired to stay awake.

Yet, even in her dreams she found no comfort.

* * *

_**02**__ – End_

* * *

**TMWolf**: _So. As I mentioned, how the characters act is **my interpretation** of them. A.k.a.: how Federico and Giovanni are is based off what canon information is there and how I interpreted it. Basically, to me, 'Rico is pretty much a gentleman that wants to have fun. He **did**_ _pull pranks while working for his father that got him fired, so while he can act proper, he can also be playful. Thus, he laughs. A lot. Generally at Ezio's expense. And Giovanni... well, his wife knows how to temper him, and as I said-I didn't plan to write him mean all the time! Just when it was called for. He really is a nice guy, in my opinion, but he has to be mean sometimes... particularly when his family is involved. So long Catherine is a good girl, he won't have a reason to be cross with her :)_

_Right. So. Catherine has officially met Giovanni, Annetta (for five seconds), Maria (for a few more), Federico, and Ezio! You can bet she'll meet Petruccio and Claudia next chapter, and there **will** be more escapades with the boys. Oh, yes, I won't deny us that fun for long-especially not when Ezio has made a game of tease-flirt with Catherine. Personally, I see them all for her acting how she does, mostly based off how Ezio acted around Rosa, who isn't too far off from Catherine, to be honest. So I'm going off that. Not to mention men apparently thought cross dressing women were kind of hot? Apparently women "hiding" their gender made them more alluring, so there's that lol. The Renaissance was an odd time. Anyways... Oh! Do forgive the cheesy Ezio-hug at the end there. I couldn't resist, ha ha. I'm terrible, I know. ;)_

_Hmm... so I don't think there's much else... besides some fun fact: I **originally** mean to have Cristina and Ezio a couple already, but decided to change it in the end for future plans :) I figured Ezio wouldn't be much of a flirter once he was in a relationship with Cristina, so that wouldn't make for a lot of fun with our favorite boy and my girl. I'm assuming I have room for it, too, since there's not an actual date/month given for **when** Ezio meets Cristina except that it's **before** Legacy which takes place in December (Ezio is seen flirting with her in the movie). Soooo yeah. I decided to give myself room, especially once remembering how fast relationships started in that time._

_Second fun fact: Catherine originally was **excited** to be stuck in the past... but I decided that was unrealistic. Building on that, Giovanni wasn't as strict as he is here, either, but again-I felt it was too... easy. So I had to change it up, ha ha._

_Okay. Now I'm officially done, ha ha. If you have any questions feel free to ask, but I won't give any spoilers! :P_


	4. Many Meetings II

**TMWolf: **_Okay, so I have't gotten through my test yet, but I thought I'd update early this week because you've all waited so long! :) Updates _should _resume as normal next week. In the meantime, here's chapter 3_

_As I mentioned before, this fanfic is MY interpretation of the Auditore family based off canonical info and what was shown in the games. Since we don't get too much of Giovanni, 'Rico, Maria, and Petruccio, I kind have more room to play around, and even with Ezio some, so do be aware that the way everyone is portrayed right now is my own thing :) This is ESPECIALLY important this chapter, which I'll go over at the end._

_Anyways, not much to talk about this time-same song as last chapter._

_As usual, please let me know if you see any errors, and if you are a historian who knows the Renaissance era far better than I do let me know when I mess up! :D I aim to keep it as accurate as possible with some freedom of movement, of course, ha ha._

_And now-enjoy! It's time to meet the other two children of the Auditore family!_

* * *

**03** \- _Many Meetings II_

* * *

**July 6, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine gripped the end of her tunic tightly, knuckles probably white beneath the gloves she'd been given as she practically ripped her borrowed shirt. She figured it was one of Ezio's old ones by the dark color, but she didn't really know. She'd only found a small array of tunics and dresses waiting for her when she woke, and Annetta had not said anything, so she'd chosen the nearest set of pants. Now she was in the familiar and very uncomfortable dark, small space that was Giovanni's office, watching the man reading letters. She swore he knew how nerve-wracking this was for her, especially when he'd approached her so suddenly and brought her here before she got to do anything else after breakfast, saying they "needed to talk".

About what? Had Federico betrayed her and revealed too much? Had she done something wrong? Had she said something she shouldn't have? Was she supposed to wear a dress? But then why let her go so quickly last night? Why let her continue on to his office and not change clothes? Why walk so silently and calmly and sit there and ignore her as he read his letters and made her _anguish_? Truly, it was a punishment, and she wished nothing more than to run away, but she couldn't. He would catch her, anyways, and running from a man like Giovanni just didn't bode well in any situation that occurred to her.

He let out a deep breath of air, causing her to flinch. He didn't say anything, though, and she really wanted to have her cloak right now, but Annetta had taken it and her other clothes—possibly to wash. She felt naked without it, and while the stupid the stupid thing in her pocket had caused this whole mess, she touched at the Clock. Sometimes she really wished it would work, if only to save her from moments like these or worse ones to come. She didn't dare speak up and get his attention; she was too afraid of what he wanted. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, she wasn't sure—he finally put down the letter and looked to her.

"So," he began, leaning back with his hands clasped together on his desk, "I realize it has only been half a day, but… how are you settling in?"

She didn't—couldn't—answer right away. The question was just too casual; too normal. Yet, it was too complex, too. How did someone answer something like that in her situation?

"How… how am I… settling in?" she repeated incredulously.

"Again, I realize it is perhaps too soon, but I thought I might gauge your first impression from all this. I was told you had quite the experience yesterday."

She took a while before she answered, "It… the city is… beautiful, but… this is all so… so strange. I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, just this morning I had to use this—this _pot_ to go to the bathroom and this other maid came in and got it like it was nothing!"

"You mean the chamber pot? You do not use these things where you are from?" Giovanni inquired, raising a brow.

"No, I told you, I'm from the _future_—about six hundred years! We have—we have…we… I…well, that is, we have… not… chamber pots… we have much better things and lots of other things…"

"You are reluctant to tell me," he stated plainly, and she glanced up sharply. She looked back down, biting her lip.

"Well, it's just… there are dangers to talking about the future. What if I tell you something and it causes history to change? I mean, not all of what we have isn't all that life-changing, but what _if_?" she replied, running a hand through her hair. Before her, the older man hummed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He kept his gaze on her, always regarding her with that wise expression of his. He always knew and understood so much, didn't he? It certainly felt like it. She really was but a child compared to him.

"I suppose you are right. I admit, I still find it hard to believe you are from the 'future', but regardless, you speak wisely. If you were to tell me any important events of Italy, I might seek to change them to better favor the Order and the people. This, in turn, will alter the generations to come, and it seems this will be bad—or you believe it to be?"

She rubbed her arm, "Well, yes? People in my time make up stories about time paradoxes—that is, changing one small thing in the past causes catastrophic changes in the present. I mean, I don't really know anything about historical Italy. I live… well, some place very far away in the future. I can't even tell you where, or… well, I mean, I guess it won't change much, but… better safe than sorry, right?"

"Indeed," Giovanni nodded, leaning forward so he could press his chin into his hands as he continued to think, deeply this time. It seemed like there was something he knew and maybe wanted to say, but wasn't. Maybe he couldn't—not unlike her. But what could _he_ not be saying? She was the one from the future and could potential cause irreversible damage. Although, personally, she didn't think she could do much being that she only really knew American history and the most important world events, but she had to worry. Catherine looked to the older man as he lowered his hands again.

"Very well. I will refrain from asking you to say names or reveal to me events of the future and you must not answer should I falter. Tell me only what you feel to be completely safe, and know I will not press. The power to change the future is one that _none_ should have," he stated, and she couldn't agree more. The only problem was that _she_ had that power, in a way.

"So… you believe me now then?" she chuckled weakly, and he gave her a small smile back.

"Let us just say that you provide a more compelling argument every time I speak with you. It also explains a great deal about you—such as your demeanor. You do not act like a normal woman, nor do you speak like one. No, your dialect is very… informal, so to speak, but you speak it well; almost as though you_ are _Italian despite your appearance."

"Ah, yes," she hummed, flushing a bit and rubbed the back of her head again. "Where I'm from, or, well, in many places _when_ I'm from, women have more rights. I won't say how or when—I can't even really remember the exacts, anyways—but women are essentially equal to men, and, uh… er… oh, uh… should… I maybe not mention that?"

"No, that is fine to say. I assure you, I would not impede such progress. Our Order is one of freedom and equality, and already my wife is my equal. However, you would do well to keep such notions between us. In fact, any word of this future of yours or explanations should remain solely within this room."

She nodded, "Yes. Of course. But, yeah. Women are more equal to men, and we aren't taught to talk any certain way… and I, ah… I preferred doing boy things, like sports. I, um, did wrestling, actually—like, um… the ancient Greeks. Like them."

"Fascinating. That _would_ explain how you kept up with my boys so well last night without prior training," the older man hummed, and chuckled when Catherine's eyes widened. "Federico was kind enough to inform me that you kept up fairly well despite a small blunder. He thought you might be an Assassin in training. It is not unheard of for there to be women Assassins. Indeed, some of our greatest have been woman."

He trailed off then, and the confusion set in with the redhead. She couldn't help staring at him, trying to figure out how different the place suddenly felt. Her nervousness was gone, replaced with a sense of calm and ease; like she might be talking with an old friend. It was so _different_ from before. She thought she'd be having a heart attack by now and going to be punished, yet here he was talking about figuring out why she was how she was and then female Assassins? Why the sudden change? Did he _not_ want her to be acting this way? What was going on? Why couldn't things be simple?

"You are confused."

"Uh… I… ah… well, _yes_. I… you… you were… yesterday you were… I thought you would, well, _strangle_ me if I acted out, but here you are telling me these things and we're talking so causally and jut—I.. I don't… I don't understand."

"Hmm… I suppose you wouldn't, and it has been difficult to integrate, no?" he began, but she was hardly any less confused as she nodded, silently noting he had no idea. "Well, I must apologize, for it may become a bit more difficult."

Any good feelings vanished as she slumped and prepared herself for what was to come. Giovanni stood and turned towards his mantle, arms clasped behind his back. His head was tilted, looking up at the Assassin sigil, and she had a feeling it was something to do with that. Not that there anything going on with her right now that didn't have to do with the Order apparently.

"My wife and I discussed many things yesterday—namely, ensuring your secrecy and safety, and thus the safety of the Order and our family. In this, we have decided on many things. First and foremost, you will lead a double life, of sorts, in order to confuse any prying eyes while you are here. For some days, you will pose as a boy, as you did yesterday and you are today, and work on your skills with my sons. On other days, you will be a proper lady and be left in the care of my wife. We believe this might ensure an extra veil of safety."

"That's… smart. I wouldn't mind that," she replied, although really she liked it more than she let on. She definitely preferred the boy clothes over dresses, and it _was_ a smart idea. If the Templars thought she was a boy, they would be looking for one, and they would never have seen her in a dress by now. However, there was something else he had left unspoken—just hanging there, waiting to be grasped. She leaned forward slightly, "But… there's more?"

"Yes—in part, thanks to your little adventure yesterday. Federico informed me you possess an aptitude for agility that could be improved. Before you ask, yes, I do have a purpose to my ramblings," he replied as he turned around, holding up a hand to quiet her questions. "My wife brought up another matter. You need to be protected, that is clear, but it is far easier to protect someone whom can also protect themselves. While I would rather not involve you, the opportunity has presented itself, and there is logic to it. As Federico is being trained, so, too, will you. In fact, I aim for him to learn by teaching you."

"Uh, _what_? You want me… to train to be an Assassin?" she gaped, brows raised so high they practically touched her hairline.

"No. I do not intend to make you an Assassin, but you will know how to at least defend yourself—to escape your enemies. You are far too dangerous to be a part of this Order, and I still do not know your true purpose here. I do not believe you are an enemy, but that is a chance I cannot take at this time—perhaps not ever. However, I can also not take the chance of the Templars capturing you. If you possess decent skills, you will improve your chances of evading them, and so I will allow this."

Her brow lowered and she leaned back, "So… Federico is my teacher and watcher?"

"Yes. He does not know you are aware of our Order, though he suspects. I'd rather him not know why you are here—even the false reasons. If possible, keep that from him, although I will not fault you for failing in this. Regardless, he will report to me every day that you train with him. I expect improvements, and, as I mentioned before, if I believe you are a threat to the Order or my family, the Templars are the least of your worries. I promise you that."

Though Catherine swallowed hard, she nodded in agreement. Once again, she was reminded that the man before her was a skilled and powerful killer. He was an Assassin, and he had her life in his hands. He was a father, too, and a man who loved his family. He would do all he could to protect what he had, and she didn't dare get in his way.

"I understand. And... Thank-you, Giovanni. I know right now it doesn't feel like much to me—I'd rather you let me help so I can go home, but… I understand why you're doing this, and you didn't have to do this much. So… so I'm going to go ahead and say sorry for anything I mess up or act bad about. I don't mean any disrespect, and it's going to be tough getting used to everything—hell, I'm _still_ just getting my head around it—but I'll do everything I can to make this work. If it means dealing with uncomfortable things or doing something I don't like, then so be it. I owe you that much."

The older man watched her carefully as he spoke, and she watched him right back. She needed him to know she meant every word, and would do what she could. She didn't expect to be perfect; in fact, she knew she might mess up at some point, but she hoped he could understand why. This was a whole new confusing world. Even just this morning she didn't get what to do or it was just so weird, and it was going to get weirder. She was never one to back down from a challenge, however, and though the thought of her future here did frighten her, she knew she would make it somehow. She just hoped he would let her have that chance.

Giovanni chuckled softly, giving her a smile, "I am sure you will do fine. Just mind the Piece of Eden you have; while most will see but a broken clock, others might see its true design."

"Of course… Although, even _I _don't know its true design… Like I said, I haven't been able to make it work properly, and it hasn't 'said' anything to me since yesterday when I met you."

"Hmm… perhaps that is best, no? It is dangerous, this artifact you have."

She frowned, pressing a hand to the pocket, "That's… true. I just… I guess I'm still hoping to help you somehow. I really do want to go home…"

"In time, you may find a way, and I do wish I could help you—truly, I do. You are so young, and this a burden not meant for anyone, but I must consider more than just your needs or my own; what you possess could change the very fabric of the world, and I must take that very seriously."

"I… I know. I forget about it, I know, but… I do know it deep down. I just… I want to go home," she sighed softly, head drooping.

Giovanni smiled gently as he came over and touched her shoulder, "I know. If it is within my power, I will help you return home and rid you of this burden, but until such time… do what you can."

"You know… you're actually a really kind man," Catherine mused, and the older man chuckled back.

"Ah, blame my children. They have softened me, and my wife is very convincing. I did not intend much for you at all, but there is wisdom in this."

"Well, I can't say I won't mind learning how to fight and climb buildings. It was pretty exciting," she grinned slightly as she stood up, figuring the conversation was just about over. It felt that way, and he didn't motion for her to sit back down.

"Are all women like you in your time? So eager to engage in such activities?" he hummed a bit wryly, and she laughed.

"Not all, but a lot more than now. Oh… so, Federico said I didn't need to wear a hood, but should I? Or a hat or something? At least to make it seem like I'm not completely a girl when I'm out with them?"

"Hmm… perhaps a hat would do. While people will not be inclined to harass you while with them… it is still not proper for a young lady to dress as you are. They will think poorly of you. Federico will keep you from the guards…"

"But we don't want it to come to that. I guess I need to ask Annetta then."

"She will find you one. For now, make yourself at home in the parlor—the boys are busy running errands, and you need not work with Maria yet. Remain here, though, and do not leave. You may speak with Claudia ad Petruccio, but refrain from meeting with the other servants unless absolutely necessary; they are not sworn to secrecy as strongly as Annetta," the older man warned, looking to her seriously. Oddly, she was not as frightened as before when she nodded.

"Of course… and thank-you, again," she replied, bowing her head slightly, and that was that.

Giovanni ushered her off, and she did not hesitate to leave the room, which was no longer as small or suffocating as before. It was still cramped, so she breathed with relief when she was out in the courtyard. The air was warm, and she was glad for it despite the thin layer of sweat that had formed on her during the whole talk. Sure, it hadn't been nearly as nerve-wracking as before, but it was still antsy being alone with him, talking about things. She supposed she had a lot to be happy for, though—he had some trust, or no, not trust, but he was willing to let her do more, and that held so much more hope for her helping and doing what the "god" man wanted.

Maybe—just maybe—she'd be able to go home sooner than she'd thought.

_'Let's not start off by disobeying him. To the parlor. Which is the… main room? I think?' _she rumbled as she headed for the door and slipped in. Though it was not nearly as warm as outside, the heat of the day was there, and even open windows to let the breeze in didn't help much. She sorely missed air conditioning, although Italy was _nothing_ compared to back home in the summer. In fact, she would have barely been able to stand it and would have moved by now with how hot home was. Here, it was just a little off just right, so it was manageable, and so she was able to find some comfort as she reached the main room where she settled onto one of their couches.

She hadn't had much time to look at it before, but the room was incredibly lavish—just like the rest of the place. Even her "guest" room was well furnished, and this parlor was made to impress visitors. There was another couch besides the one she was on, and various chairs spread about neatly. Near the windows on the far side was a chess table that looked like it had been paused during a game; still ready to go whenever the players returned. Book shelves lined one of the long walls, while shelves of trinkets were on another. There was a table with a candle holder and more decorations, and then any remaining space on the walls was taken up by either tapestries or gold-framed paintings.

She felt so… out of place. She'd never been around such nice things, and so sat there awkwardly; back straight, legs pressed together, and hands held close on her knees. It was silent for a long while with just her in the room, and she thought of doing _something_, but was too afraid to. She briefly imagined she heard sounds coming from the dining room or shuffling in the halls, but it was probably only the other servants. She glanced to the books, figuring she could read them if only to test what her Clock could do. She'd been too tired to try yesterday, and she apparently had plenty of time, so why not?

A hand suddenly grabbed her shoulders, and she jumped up with a small yelp. She spun around, only to meet the bright face of a young boy who laughed with delight. She recognized him as Petruccio at once, the youngest Auditore, and certainly the most cheerful and adorable. He was so young—just thirteen, he had proudly exclaimed last night—and so innocent. He barely came up to her chest, and his hair curved against his rounded baby face perfectly to his shoulders while his bangs reached his brows. He wore the most poofy clothes out of his family, though his were of yellow colors rather than red.

"Ha! I got you!" the little boy giggled, and Catherine chuckled.

"So you did—I didn't even hear you!"

He grinned as he came around and then got on the ground, reaching beneath the couch. From the space he pulled out a wooden sword that looked like it had seen years of use. She didn't doubt Petruccio used it often, and he was all too happy to begin swinging it about, as if he were fighting some invisible enemy.

"I have been working on being sneaky!" he boasted, making some light parries and thrusts. "I can almost scare my brothers, but they always find me at the very end! I can frighten Claudia, but then she becomes angry, and she is like a dragon!"

"Sounds like your kind of adventure," the redhead smiled as she sat back down, leaning back in a more relaxed posture as she watched him. He looked to her, grinning sheepishly.

"Actually… I am not ready for dragons, yet. I can take on knights, though—or my brothers! I have beaten them in sword fighting! I can beat anyone else, too, besides Father!"

She smirked now, "Oh? Well, you're quite the deadly warrior! I wouldn't dream of crossing your path, Sir Petruccio!"

"Oh, but I could never harm a lady—a proper Knight would never! He fights _for_ them or to protect them!" the young man huffed, puffing his chest out proudly, and the red head laughed lightly.

"Well, I am glad to have you here then. I am in sore need of a handsome Knight such as yourself."

"Then I, Sir Petruccio Auditore de Firenze, am at your service, Lady Catherine," he replied, bowing proper. "I will protect you from all bad things—even Claudia-dragons!"

"Wha—I am _not_ a dragon, Petruccio, you little imp!" a voice practically shrieked, and both looked—the younger brother jumped a little—to find the sole daughter of the Auditore family come charging through the hallway towards them. She had a fierce pout on as she kept her head high and glared down at her little brother, although there was no real anger in her eyes. "I am a proper and sophisticated young lady of Firenze and you are just a—a silly little boy!"

"You are no lady—you are too rough and mean! Even mother says you are too—too, um, well, you are too mean!"

"No I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

Catherine's brow was raised very high in that moment. She was also working hard to not bust out laughing, but her efforts were failing. Honestly, it was just too cute how they were—the sibling squabbling. Claudia _was_ rather rowdy for a lady of the Renaissance, and she'd realized what Federico meant yesterday when he said they were similar. The young woman was very outgoing and was not afraid to give her opinion. She suspected it had to do with being spoiled—she swore the other boys had mentioned it—but whatever the case, the young woman was not afraid to ask _very_ invasive and direction questions and always showed her annoyance when she did not get an answer. Catherine could recall quite a few women back home like that, so, in a way, it was kind of nice having something similar. At least until the rudeness came up and the redhead remembered how much she worked to _avoid_ people like Claudia.

Petruccio, on the other hand, had been a sweet and innocent boy with quite the imagination all of dinner. He asked many questions, too, but he was kind about it, and more curious than anything else. And now she knew him to be an adventurer. It was a shame he couldn't leave the palace. He had such a creative mind, and yet an illness kept him secluded to his home. He had spoken lightly of it, but she suspected he didn't understand what it meant for his future. She had seen how his parents and even older siblings flinched slightly when it was brought up, and she knew it was something serious. Still, it was heartwarming to see he didn't let it hold him back regardless of the reason why.

"You! Catherine!" Claudia shouted, and the redhead jumped, eyes wide. She mentally groaned, wondering what the young woman wanted as she put her hands on her hips. "Do you think I am mean!? I most certainly am not!"

"Uh, er… well, you're… loud?" she tried, wanting to crawl under the cough and then run out of the room.

"I am speaking at perfectly normal levels!" the daughter shouted, obviously oblivious to her not-so-normal "levels".

"You are yelling right now!" Petruccio huffed.

"Okay, look—calm down, okay?" the redhead began, holding up her hands for peace, but there would be none of it.

"No I am not! Now take back what you said! I am no dragon! I am a lady!"

"You are a dragon! A big, loud, fiery dragon!"

"Well, _you _are a silly little boy who plays pretend!"

"I am a _Knight_! I am Lady Catherine's Knight! She said so!"

"Ha! You are still a child! You cannot be a 'Knight'!"

"Yes I can!"

"No you cannot!"

"Yes I can!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Jesus Christ—_Enough!_" Catherine essentially roared, and both siblings stopped, if only out of surprise. The redhead sighed in relief for the short moment of silence as she stood before them now. She ran a hand through her hair as she looked at them both, hoping she had some kind of authoritative appearance. She _was_ older than both of them. Hell, she was older than Ezio, so maybe that would give her some power despite being a stranger. "You're _both_ children! You're squabbling like children, anyways! Honestly, Claudia, are you really _that_ offended your _little brother_ is calling you a dragon? If anything, it's a compliment to how strong and amazing you are! No one can stand against you! And you, Petruccio… well, it isn't necessarily nice to call your sister things, but she shouldn't say you're not a Knight, either—you're whatever you want to be. Alright? Now, can you both stop fighting?"

Brother and sister looked to one another, and while Claudia still looked ready for a fight, she managed to give a smile to her younger sibling. Petruccio, in turn, smiled back, and they both chuckled before they were wrapped up in one another's arms.

"Ah, I cannot stay mad at my favorite little brother," the dark-haired woman sighed, and her brother grinned.

"I am your only little brother, Claudia."

"Exactly…. And I suppose I do not mind being called a dragon—but only in the house! If you tell any of my friends or suitors—!"

He snickered, "I promise I will not! I am only a Knight in the house, too."

_'Thank God… I wasn't sure I could handle much more,' _Catherine murmured silently to herself, glad the conflict was over. Although, was it _always_ like this in their house? And if so—how the hell did they manage? Did Maria or Giovanni or the other brothers stop them or what? Just her taking a go at it felt exhausting, and she certainly didn't enjoy the spotlight it put on her.

"Right, well, we're all good here, yes?" she grinned, hoping to confirm, and their smiles said enough. She sat back down then, leaning into the couch and letting her head fall back. "Good."

"Oh, what are you doing in here anyways?" Claudia inquired as she moved past Petruccio to sit on the opposite side of the couch. Catherine groaned inwardly. The questions. It was starting again. Maybe. Hopefully not.

"Well, ah… your father finished his meeting with me, and since Federico and Ezio are busy, well… I don't know what else to do here?"

"Oh. Well, I would invite you out, but with those clothes of yours… er… are those _Ezio'_s old things? I swear he wore them a few years ago."

She couldn't help flushing a bit—Claudia's tone was too condescending for her not to, "Probably? This was what Annetta found for me. I, ah… lost most of my belongings coming here, and I'm not particular fond of dresses nor did I have only them, so I decided to wear this today."

"Oh," the other woman sniffed, a small frown on her face. Catherine was fairly certain she and Claudia might not get along too well—if only because of the attitude the Auditore had towards her. Really, it wasn't all that surprising considering her upbringing and the fact she was, for the most part—as in, putting aside her temper—a proper lady. She, on the other hand, was not; a fact well represented by their differing attire.

Then again, she'd only really spoken to the young woman during dinner and just now. Who was she to judge how they might be or who Claudia really was? Honestly, she should know better than to make assumptions so quickly even if first impressions _were_ important. She just needed more time to get to know the young woman. Surely, they could get along somehow.

"Well, I think it is a little silly you wearing those clothes," the young woman mused, and Catherine had to hold back a laugh.

So much for any hope of getting along.

_'Looks like I just have to tolerate her and her attitude then,' _the redhead hummed and turned her attention back to Petruccio, whom had felled some warrior or beast. He turned towards them, grinning brightly.

"Well, I think Lady Catherine is a lady regardless of what she wears!" he proclaimed, puffing his chest out once more.

"Aww, well thank-you, Sir Petruccio. You will make the finest of Knights one day… and certainly a slayer of hearts. All the women of Italy will want to give you their favor," Catherine chuckled as she leaned forward to wink at him.

"Oh, but I am your Knight! Yours is the only favor I seek, milady!"

"She is _hardly_ a lady," Claudia huffed, rolling her eyes. "If anything, you will both end up dueling!"

"Now _that_ sounds like a fun idea—I've always wanted to duel, and you look like the strongest Knight here. Who better to train with, yeah?" Catherine grinned back as she stood, though paused to look around. "You don't happen to have another sword, do you?"

"Of course! I will be right back!" Petruccio laughed, eyes ever bright as he scampered off, leaving the redhead with Claudia, the latter of whom was gawking with such surprise Catherine thought her jaw was about to fall off. She raised a brow, and the dark-haired woman shook her head with a noise that made it seem like she was disgusted, but the redhead couldn't be sure.

"Honestly, were you raised by _animals_? What _lady_ plays swords?" she scoffed, scrunching her nose.

Catherine shrugged, "Me, I guess? Father didn't have a lot of time to make sure I studied lady things, and when you grow up around only boys with no mother…"

"That is hardly an excuse! Well, _our_ mother will set you straight. It is not proper for you to be this way, and I certainly cannot be seen living with a woman like you!"

The redhead sighed silently, seeing where this was going, and that was nowhere. Claudia was stuck in her ways—that was all too obvious—and the Auditore daughter's way was one she wasn't content to live with if she could help. Unfortunately, the young woman was spoiled, too, which meant she probably got her way a lot. For Catherine, it was essentially confirmed they would not get along well, and so decided it might be best to keep as low a profile as possible around the young woman. Thank God she'd mastered the art of ignoring people.

Luckily, Petruccio returned, second sword in hand. It was far older and bore all kinds of gouges and few cracks, but it could still be used for fun. As such, Catherine happily took it, turning it this way and that, and then aimed it at the young bow with a grin.

"Are you ready, sir Knight? I may be a novice, but I am no easy match!"

"It would be no fun then! Come! Let us begin!" the young boy smirked, but then stuck out his tongue at Claudia when his sister made a sound of annoyance. The redhead just laughed as she made the first strike, moving to swing her sword to "hit" Petruccio's. He grinned happily as he met the blow and made slashes of his own. She had never actually fought with a sword beside a toy Light saber or foam pool noodles, so the young boy really was her better, but she was stronger and faster. It made their little bout fun, and also made the uneasiness from before seem far away—if only for a little while.

"Ah!" she cried out in mock-hurt when Petruccio's blade "struck" her belly. She clutched at it as she dropped her own sword, and made dramatic groans and woes of agony as she fell to her knees. "You have bested me, good Knight! Truly, you have no equal!"

With that, she fell back, making a "blegh" sound, and was pleased to hear the little boy laugh with delight. Claudia, of course, scoffed again as she had almost every moment of their fight. This time, though, she did not keep quiet.

"Honestly, how can you act this way? And you, Petruccio—you should not encourage it!" she snapped, arms folded over her chest.

"Claudia, stop being mean! We are just having fun!" he huffed right back, pouting.

"What's wrong with a little fun, anyways? Didn't you ever fight swords with Ezio or Federico?" Catherine inquired as she sat back up, raising a brow at the young woman. A red tint came over Claudia's features, and she stood up abruptly.

"No, I have not! Sword fights are not what a lady does for fun, and I do not appreciate you insinuating such ridiculous things! I _thought_ I might have a decent conversation, but I see I am surrounded by—by animals here!" the young woman snapped, spun on her heel, and left the two of them alone. Despite her earlier feelings, guilt was something Catherine felt quite strongly as she watched Claudia go. She even winced, realizing she'd done something wrong—and not just making a bad first impression.

"I… I didn't mean to upset her… this definitely wasn't how I wanted to start out with her," she sighed as she stood, rubbing the back of her neck. Petruccio looked to her, smiling softly.

"Do not worry about Claudia. She _is_ actually very nice, but she takes a long time to show it. She does have a temper, but she will calm down after a while. She has always been like that. Although, she will probably be cross with you for a while. That might not be so bad, though—she will probably just ignore you… or say something mean. It depends," he hummed, folding his arms and tilting his head in thought.

_'Great,'_ she sighed, wishing she had been better about things and just did a bit of what Claudia wanted. Sure, she might have been a spoiled brat, but that didn't mean she had to be meant to her. Not to mention she was supposed to be behaving. Would Giovanni get mad at her for upsetting Claudia? She hoped not. He had finally seemed like he was being generally nice—she didn't need him to rage at her again.

"Thank-you for playing with me," Petruccio spoke up, and she looked to him with surprise. He smiled shyly now. "I know you maybe are not supposed to—you are a lady—but… Ezio and Federico do not play with me much anymore. Father always has them busy, and he is too busy, too. Claudia will not play, and the servants do not, and I cannot go outside anymore… so… thank-you."

Catherine smiled back warmly, "In that case, I'm glad I was able to do this for you… and if you want… just let me know when you want to play, and I'm up for it. I actually like playing a lot, even if I am an 'adult' or 'lady'. Just… don't tell the others, okay? I don't think they like it very much, if your sister is anything to go by."

"Okay. I can do that easy! I am very good at keeping secrets. Sort of. Well, Father and Mother and Federico always find me out, but I can get around Ezio and Claudia!" he grinned like an imp, and Catherine couldn't help laughing lightly. He was adorable. Really, he was. She'd never really known what it was like to have a little brother, and so she hoped this was exactly how it was.

Her laugh became a frown when she saw the young boy grow pale and waver slightly. She quickly reached out, an arm at his back and the other grabbing his shoulder to steady him. There was a glimmer of discomfort in his expression and a slight wheeze to his breathing, too. A myriad of sicknesses came through her mind, but no one had mentioned exactly what his was. She only knew it forced him to stay at home, but now she worried she shouldn't have played with him. She didn't doubt she'd aggravated his condition, and hated herself for it.

"Oh, Petruccio, I'm so sorry—are you okay? I didn't—."

"I am okay," he replied quickly, shaking his head as he breathed a bit easier. "It is my illness—it returns when I play sometimes, but I am fine, really. I just… need to rest now. The doctors always say I should rest if I get like this. I just wanted to play …"

Catherine sighed softly with a smile and pat his head, "We can play when you feel better again. For now… do you mind a lady escorting you to your room? I'll carry you if you like, too—you can ride on my back."

"Um… well, I can go myself, but… Father would prefer I have someone to help," he hummed, though the way he said it made her think he just wanted the ride. That was fine by her, and she squat down, turning so her back was to him.

"Alright then. Wrap your arms around my neck and put your legs on my side," she told him, and once she felt his weight, she hooked her arms under his legs and stood up slowly. He nestled his head on her right shoulder, and she was glad for all her sports—it made lifting him easy. He was small, too, and so she had no trouble making her way towards the stairs. "Which room is yours, Petruccio?"

"I am the last room on the right—near Mother and Father's room," he explained and let her begin climbing in silence. It didn't last long, though, and his curiosity soon emerged. "Claudia might not, but I like how you are. You are fun. How come you learned to be fun but other ladies do not? It seems they would be happier if they did."

Catherine considered her words carefully, "Well, I was brought up differently, I suppose. I didn't have siblings or a mother, so it was just Father and the servants and workers, most of them boys. I just... grew up around them, so I learned to 'be fun'. I guess it never left me, and I live far enough away from the bustle of the city that I never bothered to really become a proper lady. I'm sure your sister is fun, though—deep down."

"No, she is not—not like you. She just talks about silly things like courting and marriage," he huffed.

"Well, that's what ladies learn… but maybe she needs reminding—you should see if she knows how to hold a sword. I bet she does."

"What? But she has never held one before!"

Catherine chuckled as she headed to the right of the upstairs hall, "Call it a 'feeling'. I think she used to play, but she was told she shouldn't. Try and coax her—you may find your sister isn't just a dragon."

"…Okay," the young boy mumbled after a few moments, grip tightening a little. With what, she wasn't sure, but she liked to think she was perhaps helping the siblings. "My room is right here."

The redhead nodded as she stopped at the door he'd motioned to and, with some careful maneuvering, got it open. A servant emerged from the room across the hall then, and looked to them with surprise before bowing slightly and heading off. Catherine frowned, wondering if they were going to mention this, although it was probably a good thing they did. Petruccio might need some medicine if there was any for him. For now, she brought the little boy inside and set him onto his bed. He sat there quietly, kicking his legs a bit, and she sat beside him, also kicking her legs. He smiled at that.

"Um… Catherine… you… I like you. You are nice. The others do not think so yet, though. They always say you cannot know someone is good without really knowing them, but I know you are good. You are different, too, but the good kind. And… and, um… you will play again, yes? I do not get ill all the time—just sometimes. Father and Mother will not be happy and do not want me to do anything, but I hate that. I miss going to school and being around my friends. Even my brothers want me to stay in and will not play. So… So you will play again, right?"

Catherine's heart melted right then and there. She'd never seen a child so desperate for just a little bit of fun in his life. Oh, she knew there were countless out there, but to have one actually coming to _her_ for it? God, it made her chest pang and she wanted to hug him tight. She held back, though; he was still tired and it didn't feel quite right, but she did grasp his hand and squeeze it gently. He looked up at her, eyes full of hope.

"Of course I will… and we can play in ways without swords. I know a few fun games we can do that shouldn't make you ill. And even if your Father may disapprove, we'll find a way around it. We're both sneaky, right?" she chuckled, winking playfully, and the young boy smiled so brightly he was like the sun. She found his arms wrapped tight around her then, and again her chest panged for him. He wanted this fun so badly, it was heartbreaking. She knew the family no doubt meant well—he was sick and they loved him and with medicine so poor compared to her time, it was no surprise they kept him inside—but he had missed out on so much already. He still _needed_ to experience what it was to be a child.

"Thank-you," he murmured into her vest, and she rubbed his head affectionately.

"Any time, Petruccio," she replied quietly and let him hug her for a long while until there was a knock on the door. A moment later, Annetta appeared, a tray with a pot and cup in hand. The young boy released Catherine with a sigh and waited as the maid set the tray on his night stand, filled the small cup, and held it out to him.

"Must I?" he groaned, but still took it.

"Yes, Petruccio. You need your medicine. Thank-you for bringing him up here, Lady Wolfe," the woman spoke, nodding to the redhead.

"Is… Giovanni upset?" she tried, preparing to go downstairs and be lashed out at. To her surprise, though, the maid smiled with amusement and shook her head.

"No. He thanks you for bringing his son up here, and says you must stay in bed, little Auditore."

The young man huffed as he downed his drink and stuck out his tongue after, "Yes, yes… but Catherine—you will stay, right? We can play those games you said or—oh! Do you know any stories? Or you could read me one or what of ones from your home?"

"Send for me if you need me—I'll bring lunch up for you both later, too," Annetta hummed as she took the tray and left them be, all the while keeping her knowing smile on. Catherine chuckled, glad things had turned out alright, and looked to Petruccio.

"Stories, hmm? Well, I think I can work with that. I have quite a few tales, actually—ones you might like. They all take place in lands very far from here or even England, though. Does that sound alright?"

Oh, it was definitely alright. The little boy gasped with such excitement she thought he might fall off the bed. He managed to keep upright, however, and quickly scurried underneath his covers, but sat upright, eyes bright and focused on her.

"Please! Please tell me! I want to hear them!"

Catherine laughed, shifting so she was more comfortable, "Well, let's see... Oooh, I know just the one. This story takes place long ago in a place called Middle Earth where wizards, men, elves, and all kinds of magical and not so magical creatures lived and warred over a magical ring…"

* * *

_**03 **__– End_

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**TMWolf: **_Okay! So, as I mentioned, this story has how I interpret the Auditores. As such, I view Petruccio in a way that, despite being thirteen and basically almost an "adult" by that time, he is still very much so like a child. That's what I got from the video game when Ezio talked to him, and I believe it's because of his illness. It's never exactly stated what he has, but he had to be pulled out of school, and for me, that would really hamper his childhood and maturity growth. Furthermore, he was obviously babied by Ezio, so I could only assume the rest of the family is similar, so he's basically lived his childhood without being an actual kid. As such, despite being thirteen, he acts like a kid and YEARNS for the excitement that Catherine gives him here. This is also why he latches onto her so quickly-she's the first person to really have fun with him in a long time. Not to mention he hasn't gone out into the world to see a lot of people and how it works besides what he learns from books. So. Yeah. Petruccio is a childish/young thirteen year old who likes to have fun and is way too trusting. He's also friggin' adorable._

_And then we have Claudia lol. Yes, she is VERY spoiled, and in fact that's like a defining trait for her. Obviously, she and 'Cat would not start off well, and they don't! Expect this young woman to be very nasty for a while. She has NOT met Duccio yet, so that's not an issue right now, either. Anyways, I don't need to say much about her, to be honest-not until much later when I bring in things from the books :)_

_Right. Soo... Oh! Yes. Okay. SO. **GIOVANNI IS NOT TRAINING HER AS AN ASSASSIN. **I wanted to make that clear. While he _is_ allowing her to learn parkour/free-running, she is not learning how to be an Assassin. He does not believe she is someone to be inducted because she is, in a way, **dangerous**. Also, he's less mean here because I don't see him as a mean person and his wife calmed him down, ha ha. He's also had time to think and can act on his plans better. Federico also mentioned no one really followed them, so that was a relief. But yeah. Giovanni is not allowing 'Cat to be an Assassin-just to make that clear._

_And I think that's about it. Oh, kudos to whoever guesses the story she's about to tell... although it's pretty obvious *cough*. Next chapter is the boys again! Don't worry, though, there's fun to be had, and then it's Mama-Maria time! :'D_

_As usual, if you have questions, feel free to ask, although I might not answer if a spoiler is involved! xD_


	5. Florence Tarantella

**TMWolf**: _Woo! Back in action guys, and man, 21 review already? You guys are too good to me! I love hearing what you all have to say, so just keep 'em coming, ha ha ;)_

_Anyways, back to the normal schedule, BUT... Unfortunately... I have another test coming up in like a week or two so I WILL be studying AGAIN *cue sobbing* next week, so updates will be sparse again. I'm really sorry-my class is just really tough! : / But I WILL update as soon as I can. Hell, I'll probably find some time to type, but I just like to let you guys know just in case._

_Right. So. This chapter. For those who read before I changed it... it's not Maria time-that's _next _chapter, and I was a filthy liar apparently ha ha... Yeah, so SURPRISE! It's more time with our favorite boys, yaaaay! Prepare for Sasszio and Sasserine... Cathass? Sassy Catherine. Yeah. That. *cough* Moooving on, but yeah. More boy time and getting a look at how Catherine is going to train. This is pretty much only one of the few times the practice is really detailed out-just to give you the idea and how she'll be able to improve with it. Well, hopefully ;)_

_And um... hmm, well, as always, this story is how **I**, personally, interpret the Auditore's based off canon and such and my own ideas, soo... keep that in mind, ha ha? xD_

_Oh! So for my lovely guest review:_

_Dobby the elf: Hey, cheesy is great. Especially on nachos. J/k But seriously, though, the cheesy comments are great and I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I do my best to do my writer's duty, so I'm glad you think I am! :) And lol it seems using LOTR was a good idea ;) Didn't think it'd be so popular haha! Anyways, thank-you for the review and I hope you'll continue to enjoy it!_

_Lastly, this chapter is a song actually from the game! It's only no-lyrics, but it is literally perfect for this chapter so I had to use it, ha ha. Anyways, AC II soundtrack - Florence Tarentella!_

_Enjoy! And if you see any blaring grammar/spelling/word mistakes please let me know! :)_

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**04 **– _Florence Tarantella_

* * *

**July 6, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine cursed when her hat started to fly away after a jump, but managed to snag it in mid-air and secure it back on her head over the make-shift bun she'd created out of her ponytail. It wasn't as set as she would like, but she could only assume this was how Renaissance hats were and it was all Annetta could find on short notice. It did well enough to hide her hair when it didn't fly off, although if someone came too close they'd see the feminine features of her face. She could _potentially_ pull off being a man with girlish looks, but she'd rather not try. Thankfully, that wasn't any issue right now; there was practically nobody on the rooftops of the city. Oh, there were a few guards, but they didn't seem to care much unless you got too close.

"I told you it would fall off," the second born Auditore son smirked as she came up beside him and his older brother. She rolled her eyes while she adjusted her apparel.

"Congratulations, Ezio, you know how wind created from running affects a hat," she snorted back, one of the many retorts she'd made to him in the few hours they'd been prancing about. He had started the first second he could and hadn't stopped. It was a game to him, she knew, but she hadn't agreed to play. However, that didn't mean she didn't know how to compete.

He was hardly fazed, grinning more, "I only meant you should let that pretty hair of yours flow freely."

"And I meant you can cut out the sweet talk—it's not working."

"Now, now, no fighting you two. We are here to learn and have fun," Federico laughed as he walked towards them, having been scouting out the area ahead beforehand. "And I do not mean _that_ kind of fun, Ezio."

"Must you always ruin my good time?" the younger brother smirked, folding his arms. Again, Catherine rolled her eyes and set her hands on her hips. A line of sweat had formed on her brow after their latest jog, but she wasn't tired yet. Federico mostly had them go fast a short while and then walk other parts, helping them—or rather her—get the layout of things and work on jumping. It really wasn't that bad, although she still shied away from more difficult leaps. He didn't complain, nor did Ezio, although the little jerk did love to tease her relentlessly about it. He couldn't cut her slack, even when it was just her second day.

"If you wanted fun, you should not have agreed to come with us. Before you say anything else, go set things up while I explain our game to Catherine," Federico chuckled as Ezio groaned, shoulders slumping. The younger brother did not protest more than that, though, and, with a wink to the redhead, spun on his heels and trotted off. Catherine sighed with relief once he was gone, finally getting a moment away from his constant pestering. Oh, sure, it had been flattering—at first—for a guy to show her such attention, but she _was_ actually trying to work and do what Giovanni wanted. She wanted to get stronger, too—it meant she could maybe go home faster.

"Forgive my baby brother. He is helpless when it comes to women, although sometimes that works in his favor."

"Well, it doesn't here. Any tips on how to get him to stop besides shoving him off a roof?" she inquired, brow raised.

He chuckled, "Just let him run his course; when he sees you are _truly_ not interested, he will stop. And if worse comes to worse… I can always have father speak with him. For now, though, don't worry about that; we have other things to focus on, no?"

"Right. So. I'm assuming Giovanni told you everything?"

"That you are potentially in danger and require training to better protect yourself—in part at your father's request?" he replied, and she managed to nod without pause. "Then, yes. He told me as such. An odd request, but he has accepted it. He also asked I help train you in his stead. I am hardly the best teacher, but I will do what I can. And although it may be your only second day here, we need to begin. We do not know how much time you have with us."

She glanced where Ezio had gone, the young man skirting about the roofs, "I admit I'm surprised I'm out here so soon, but you're right—we don't have time. So. You mentioned a game?"

"Yes. It is an old past time. It is a race, of sorts, but you do it on your own. One of us will remain here while the other is at the end. It is mostly a straight line, with deviation, but you see Ezio and what he is putting up?" Federico explained, pointing towards the way the younger brother had gone. She turned and realized there were now red ribbons attached to various parts of the rooftops. Some were on lower sections and others on higher, but it was mostly a straight run to wherever Ezio was heading. "The idea is to grab them as quickly as you can. You must run fast and choose the best path, or you will lose time, which means your pursuers will be able to catch you. Sounds easy enough?"

"Sure. I think. Well, it's easy for you I bet—you have the best time, right?" she inquired, and his smirk said everything. "Right, well… I should be able to work with this. Is it the only game for now, or do you have more up your sleeve?"

"Oh, we have plenty more, but just this for today. We have mostly done the running to show you around and test your endurance, so we can walk the streets after this—have a little fun."

Catherine raised a brow, "Shouldn't I be training as much as possible?"

"Ah, you would make my father proud," he chuckled, briefly glancing at Ezio's progress before looking back to her. "It is good you are eager, but training is no fun if you do not have any of it."

"Huh… You have a point. Practice was always the best when we got to fool around some," she hummed, thinking back fondly on the memories.

"'Practice'?" Federico mused, brow raised, and the redhead became sheepish. She looked out to where Ezio was again, noticing he was fairly far off and had quite a few ribbons up. Good grief—she was going to have to do that, too?

"Ah, yes, ah… I did a bit of… boyish games before. I had to practice, though, and it was always more fun when we got to mess around after. Nothing too big, y'know—being that I'm a lady and all. Certainly not."

"It is alright, I was only teasing. Ah! It seems everything is all set. There are ten ribbons in all. As I said, it is a fairly straight path. The best time is forty seconds. Whenever I whistle, begin," he told her and held up his fingers to his mouth. Catherine braced herself, ready to go, and as soon as she heard the high-pitched sound, she took off.

The first few were easy. She just raced towards pillars or wooden structures, snagging the loosely looped ribbons and keeping them tight in her hands. She ended up shoving them into her vest, though, when the fourth required her to jump up, grab a ledge, and pull herself over not all that gracefully or too quickly. She loathed how she was awful with ledges that required some amount of hefting over—she'd never done it much, if at all, back when she was younger, and maybe only once or twice since coming here. She pushed and forced herself up, though, and kept moving.

The next few ribbons weren't too hard, either, and she had about six before she knew it. Maybe. She could only see four more, and Ezio was standing in the distance, watching her go at it. She imagined he had an amused smirk on as she struggled with large jumps and ledges, only going at them without too much hesitance because she had gloves. If her hands had been bare, they would have been well scraped, and she imagined she might already have some beneath her clothes now with how she'd brushed roughly against the stone walls and clay tiles. She was no stranger to physical pain, though; she spent four years enduring it for her sport, so she brushed it off as she slipped over another edge to grab her seventh ribbon and shove it under her vest.

"Where's—where's the—the next?" she asked allowed, pausing to find it. A look up showed it tied to the top of an ever higher ledge—one she couldn't reach easy. She knew the quickest way would be to go straight up, but that was some hardcore parkour that she'd only ever dreamed of doing. No, she needed another way, and a glance around showed her a decent ledge with hand holds. It was a thin bit of wood, but she fit alright, and she'd done a good deal of climbing the last few days, so she knew more of what to do. It was still nerve-wracking, but she had to finish this. She was no quitter, and her pride wouldn't let her fail in front of the boys.

"Dammit," she growled through grit teeth as she finally got herself up after what felt forever and snagged the ribbon. She saw two more remained and sighed with relief that they were on a much smoother path. Even so, she knew her time was bad. She'd wasted so much of it trying to get over stupid ledges and had to waste even more just now. She put her shame aside for now, and leaped across the roof to the next, snagging the ninth, and then the tenth ribbon just one roof away from Ezio. She leaped a final time to join him.

"—forty-five," he stopped as she reached him, panting now, and pulled the bundle of ribbons free from her vest. He smiled humorously at that as he took them, counting them off. "All ten."

"You counted forty-five?" she asked after she wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Two minute, forty-five seconds. You're a little slow, my Lady," he snickered, and she flushed.

"I'm not used to ledges yet. Give me a break, alright?" she snapped back, causing him to raise his hands in defense.

"I meant no offense!" he laughed. She was hardly amused, though. Indeed, she couldn't help the burn in her pride, knowing she'd done _terrible_ compared to the best time. Oh, she didn't actually _know _the time, but his tone said it all. She figured he'd seen her frown when he lowered his arms and shrugged. "It was your first try. You will get better as you go."

"…Yeah, I will," she sighed, her breathing back to normal, and found herself smiling at him. "Huh. I think that's the first thing you've said that hasn't made me want to smack you."

He grinned, "What? You always want to _smack_ me? That is hardly the way to get a man to court you."

"Aaand the moment's gone. Where's Federico-o-oh there he is."

Sure enough, the elder brother was making the last jump just as she had and looked to his brother, who repeated the time. She winced at the man's frown, but he quickly exchanged it for a much brighter expression.

"Not to worry. We will have you improved in no time. In fact, I think we will have you do ledges tomorrow," he nodded, and she half-sighed, half-groaned. Oh, she knew she needed to, but that didn't mean she was going to like it.

"Don't worry—we will give you a boost," Ezio winked.

She narrowed her eyes, "_You_ will do know such thing. God knows what you intend with a 'boost'."

"Ah, you wound me with your harsh words!" he laughed, clutching at his chest in mock-pain.

"Well, perhaps if you didn't act how you did then I wouldn't," she hummed, lifting her chin slightly—apparently to his amusement—but then looked to Federico after a few moments. "Although I'm sure you'd love to hear me beat your brother off with more words, can we possible get going to that 'fun' you mentioned? I wasn't sure about it before, but it sounds good now."

"Of course! Who am I to keep a lady from such joy?" he winked, but unlike his brother, it did not come off crudely. She chuckled at it of course, adjusting her hat again.

"I wish you'd stop with the 'lady' business. I prefer Catherine or 'Cat for short since the full thing can be a bit of a mouthful."

"Ah, like a kitty cat?" the younger brother grinned far too happily. The redhead gave him a look.

"No. Like, '_Cat_. I'm no kitten," she snorted defiantly, earning yet another chuckle from Federico.

"'Cat' or 'Catherine' it is, although I must warn you—you will be a lady in the house. Mother would be cross with us otherwise."

"I figured. Wouldn't want to upset Claudia more, either."

Ezio laughed this time, "So _you_ are the cause of her distress! We should have guessed."

"It was _not_ intended—promise," she winced, rubbing the back of her head. Federico waved off her concern, though, and glanced down the edge they were near.

"You would not be the first. Just mind your sheets and clothes—she may play a cruel joke or two. She fancies herself a proper lady, but she is not above the occasional 'pay back' prank," the older brother warned, causing the redhead to groan again. "Ah, do not fret. She does not know you well enough to be terribly cruel. In the meantime, shall we head down? I see a good set of footholds below."

"No ladder?"

"No ladder."

"Do not fret, Catherine—we shall catch you if you fall," Ezio spoke up, taking her hand to kiss it, but she pulled it away before he could. He just grinned, hardly put off. She dared to say he expected it at this point with how many times she'd rebuffed him. She was beginning to doubt Federico's claim, too—the young man hardly seemed ready to stop pining after her. Frankly, she didn't see _why_ he was when plenty of other ladies had given him enticing looks—she didn't completely blame them since he was handsome, but he was just so freaking _annoying_— and they were all far more attractive than her. She supposed it was because she was refusing him, and that made it a game. However, that also made him an insufferable boy.

"I will head down first. Behave, baby brother," Federico sniggered as he slipped over the side, and was down to the ground in seconds with the building only three stories. Thankfully, the "baby brother" _did_ behave and left her be—he still wore that ridiculous expression, though—but then it was her turn to go down. She was still nervous doing so, but how could she not be? She was also, however, incredibly prideful, and so stuffed away her anxieties and slipped down.

She'd kept a decent watch of where the older Auditore had gone and spots to grab, though was slow and overly careful, she knew. She was grateful for her gloves again, as the wood would have surely splintered into her skin or the stone would have let scuff marks. She could at least say she was better than yesterday, which was something. Maybe.

"Ugh. I don't know how you do it—get down so fast and so easy," she sighed as she joined Federico, who could only smile reassuringly.

"Ah, but we have been at it for years—you have been at it for two days. All things take practice."

"Yeah, you're right… Huh. You know, I'm curious, 'Rico," she mused, lip curving upward when he raised a brow at the shortening of his name. "How'd you end up so much more 'gentlemanly' than your brother? Only three years apart, and I've yet to want to smack you."

He shrugged, "I must have taken all the charm. You should not be so harsh on him, though—he only means well."

"Means to get in my pants," she snorted, and the brother laughed.

"Ah… I suppose I cannot deny that, but he is not so bad. There is a kind young man underneath that flamboyancy you so dislike, truly. On my honor."

"Fine, fine. Just tell him to tone it down for me, will you? I don't mind a sass fight—er, y'know, bickering playfully—but he goes overboard."

"I will see what I can do," Federico hummed wryly as Ezio finally joined them and motioned for his brother to follow. "Come, brother, the market is quite busy today. Plenty of goods and lovely ladies for you to woo with your words."

"But I have such a beautiful woman right here that I have yet to woo! I cannot go find another when I have not yet conquered her heart!" the younger brother purred, much to Catherine's chagrin. She didn't bother to say anything this time. His words were just too much for her _not_ to say something overly rude, so she waved it off in her head and acted as though she had not heard.

"So, we'll be perusing the market for 'fun' then?" she inquired, and the older brother nodded.

"Among other things. We always find mischief, though. In fact, I think I hear a bard."

Ezio groaned, "Not the bards! I hate those bastards! Always so annoying and they won't leave you alone!"

_'Isn't that ironic?' _Catherine hummed, grinning a little, "I think I wouldn't mind listening to such a bard. If only to keep the riff raff away."

"You will think again once you get to know them," Federico replied, smirking at his brother, who frowned at her comment. "Rather, let us visit that bakery—the one with that excellent sweet bread."

"Sweet bread?"

"Oh, ho—the lady has a sweet tooth?" the younger before snickered, and again she ignored him. This time she noticed his little huff—a slight pout to his lip. Good.

"Yes, it is quite delicious. We will get some—my treat," the elder Auditore chuckled, leading them onward.

Catherine withheld her silent relief at that. She hadn't really thought about it before, but she had no money. She'd actually left her wallet in the car back outside the castle, but even if she had that, her bills would have been useless. Paper money wasn't even a thing yet, and the "God"—she was starting to thing far less highly of him lately—had not procured her a form of currency that was actually usable. By God, if she hadn't been so lucky as to meet Giovanni… Well, she'd have been shit out luck, that's what. Whatever the case was now, she figured she might need to speak to the boys' father after this. She didn't expect him to give her money, but at least maybe a way to earn some herself respectably. She didn't want to be "treated" any more than she needed to.

"Hello! Where have you gone, kitty-cat?" Ezio waved way too close to her face, making her jump slightly, and shoot him a glare. He grinned. "Oh-ho! She returns—thinking about something deeply? Perhaps a handsome young man?"

"Actually, I was reminiscing about a tall, strong English _man_ back home with manners a thousand times better than a _boy_ like you has," she snapped, causing him to pout again.

"A 'boy'?! Federico did you hear that—she called me a boy!"

His brother shrugged, "Who am I to tell a woman she's wrong?"

"Which I'm not."

"Oh, come on, brother! You are supposed to help me here! You always go on how you want to teach me how to get a woman 'properly' and then you do not!" the younger brother grumbled, scowling deeply at Federico. For once, it actually looked genuine, and were his comment not so blatantly piggish she might have felt a little bad for him.

"And I would—if you did not run off and flirt as you always do. If you learned a bit of patience I could give you that advice you say you want so badly," his brother sighed, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, your 'boyish' tactics worth well with the ladies—sometimes."

In a split second, Ezio's pout was gone, grinning like a fox, "What can I say? They like the boyish charm, no? Well, except for the kitty here."

"That's because I want a _man_, and don't call me that!" Catherine hissed, folding her arms over her chest defiantly. The young man smirked, hands on his hips as he stood before her, watching her playfully.

"Can you not just admit you like it? It would make things so much more fun."

"What? And give you the satisfaction of 'conquering' another young lady's heart? I think not."

"And why not? Do not tell me you would not enjoy a night with a man like me?"

"No, I wouldn't. For one, you're _seventeen_—a _'boy_'. Hell, I'm even older than you! Secondly, I would hardly enjoy being with a man who thinks women only look forward to hanging off their arm and giggling at their bad jokes. Have I made it clear enough for you, yet?" the redhead barked. If she hadn't been at her limit already, she would have held her tongue. Sure, Federico had told her she could act how she did and it was fine, but she knew there was only so far that she could go. She thought she might have crossed it, and regretted her words some, but Ezio was just too much. That, and she couldn't honestly say she knew how to properly handle these situations. She only knew to be honest and blunt about things, and there it was.

Definitely not proper Renaissance lady material.

"Ezio," Federico spoke just as the young man opened his mouth to speak, stopping him, "that is enough. Catherine has made it clear she is not interested in your advances, and you would do well to stop."

Younger brother met the gaze of his elder, stubborn and defiant, but it only took a few moments before he sighed with exasperation and looked away. He was defeated and so headed off, frustrated and annoyed. Catherine ended up groaning.

"I guess my cover's blown—not much of a lady at all."

Federico smiled softly, "I figured as much, but if it helps, you are not the most un-lady like woman I have met. Also, forgive my baby brother. I did not lie when I said he means well, but he does not always know when to stop. Most ladies enjoy that—the chase, that is, but it is obvious you are not one of them. I will speak to him again later, if you would like."

"No, just leave it. I think I've done enough damage. So. That makes two Auditores who don't like me then, huh?" she rumbled, rubbing her arm.

"Oh, no, Ezio will hardly dislike you after this little spat. If anything, he will try harder later," he laughed lightly, and her look of despair made him laugh more. "I will speak to him. For now, let us enjoy that sweet bread I promised."

She managed to smile back a little, "That does sound good. Sorry to bother you like this—I really don't mean to. Honestly, I'm _trying_ to keep a low profile, and I don't _want_ to be mean to him because he _can _be nice, but he's so young and, I mean, I don't really know him, so I'm judging him on his antics, which isn't really right, but—."

"Catherine, it is alright. Ezio _is_ still a boy some, though he is considered a man. Just let him cool off and let me talk to him. You just enjoy yourself. You are our guest, after all," Federico spoke up, cutting off her rambling. She flushed a little, but nodded, and was severely glad to have him around. He was only twenty, but he was already incredibly sensible. Certainly, if he were the one flirting with her, she might not have minded it. He _was_ handsome, too, but there something more brotherly to him than anything else. A shame, really.

"Okay."

"Are you two coming or what?!" Ezio shouted from afar, having reached the entrance to the alley and now just standing there, as impatient as ever. The older brother gave her his comforting smile again and motioned her forward. She somehow managed a small curve of her lip upwards, too, before heading off, hoping things would get a bit better. It wasn't all bad, she supposed. As long as Ezio wasn't being insufferable, it was quite nice despite being so far out of the norms of her time. Now, that wasn't to say it was easy or _not_ bad. No, her situation was terrible, but at least the people were nice so far.

'_You just better not be lying about this being the way back, lady,_' Catherine rumbled, glancing downward, though the Clock was hidden away in her pocket.

"I can smell the bread already. The baker must have made his last loaf by now," the younger brother grinned and led them into the decently-sized crowd. Like yesterday, the streets were alive and full of various wonders. She imagined they would get around to most everything, but for now, the boys took her towards the open window of a bakery in the corner. There, she scent of sweet bread was strong and made her mouth drool while her stomach growled eagerly.

"Ah, good. It is always best when fresh. Ezio, stay here and I will… I…," Federico began, trailing off as his eyes caught something in the crowd. His cheerful demeanor vanished in the next second, his features suddenly fierce. He grabbed Catherine's arm a little roughly, turning her around, and heading back out of the crowd. "We need to leave."

His brother frowned, "Federico, what is—."

"Vieri. To the East. Do not make eye contact."

Catherine looked back, though she imagined the older brother didn't want her to as he kept his grip and led her along quickly. Ezio had grown more serious, as well; perhaps even deadly so. She couldn't make out who the person was; the crowd was too thick and she didn't even know what they looked like. She did notice someone staring their way, though, motioning to other men. Was that him?

"Who's 'Vieri'?" she questioned, making sure to keep up. If the boys were so concerned then he _must_ have been bad.

"Trouble. Damn. We should have been more careful. It's been almost a week since he last bothered us—he was bound to show his sorry hide again," Ezio snarled.

"Forget him. Our priority is to ensure Catherine's safety and to keep her out of Vieri's sights," Federico spoke quickly.

The younger brother glanced back, "Shit. He's seen us."

"Ezio, take Catherine. Get to the roofs again. Vieri's no good at climbing, nor are his men. I will distract them. Go!"

With that, Catherine found herself just about shoved towards the younger brother. Normally, she would have shouted and been furious with him, but she knew now wasn't the time. They were in danger, or, rather, she was. She suspected the boys might be able to handle this "Vieri" and his men, but they didn't know about her. To be honest, she wasn't sure about her, either. She'd wrestled, yes, but actually fight? She'd never had the chance, so she didn't resist when Ezio pulled her into a sprint. He let her go once she kept up, though she did pause briefly to see what Federico was doing, but only caught him heading back towards the men. She kept her lingering questions at bay as Ezio brought her to a stack of crates in a secluded, which led to a grating just a small leap away. She didn't hesitate to run up and onto the structure. She searched quickly for a foothold, but it was the young man who showed her first. She made it up soon enough, and after a few roof jumps they finally stopped.

Panting, she brushed a bang back behind her ear, "W-will Federico be okay? What's with this Vieri guy, anyways?"

"Federico will be fine; Vieri and his men can never catch him, and he's taken five of them all on at once and come out without a scratch. As for that _scum_… he is a cowardly piece of shit and a pathetic one at that. We have argued over a woman once or twice, and he insists on confronting me every chance he gets now because he did not win them over. He has yet to learn his lesson, and I doubt he ever will—always so eager to please his bastard of a father and he cannot _stand_ that he cannot best us."

"Sounds like a fun guy," she snorted, looking over the edge for the missing brother.

"I told you, Catherine—he will be fine. He is just going to lose them and join up with us. It is safe to assume we will be returning home, though. As much as I would love to clobber his face in, father has asked we not get into trouble… and we cannot involve you."

"Sounds like he's a guy I wouldn't mind punching," she snorted again, and Ezio laughed.

"I think I might like to see that, but Vieri is cruel when it comes to women. You would not wish to be alone with him."

"Oh, great. So he's a piece of shit _and _a pig?"

"Unfortunately. I apologize—this was hardly the end to the evening you should have had," he smiled sincerely, and she shrugged.

"Hey, nothing like a little excitement, right?"

Ezio raised a brow, chuckling, "I did not know you enjoyed fighting unruly young men, although I suppose I should have suspected."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, little boy," she smirked back.

"Must you insist on calling me a boy?" he huffed.

"You're seventeen—two years younger than me. Of course, even when you're twenty, you're still going to be a 'boy' to me. Especially with your 'manners'."

"Do you truly hate me so much already?"

Catherine sighed, hands on her hips, "No, I don't _hate_ you, but I am getting tired of your constant 'have-sex-with-me-flirting', and don't deny that's what is. You brag enough about it. If you weren't so obnoxious about it, then it wouldn't be as bad."

"So… if I was, perhaps, more… _charming—_like Federico, you would not mind it?" he inquired, and she waved her hand.

"Yeah, I guess?" she shrugged, but then paused when she noticed his cheeky grin. "Oh, no—no, no no no no! Don't you dare! I did _not_ mean you keep flirting with me!"

He laughed, taking her hand to kiss it before she pulled it away, "Too late! I assure you, from now on I will be far more charming! You will see."

"God, kill me now," she groaned, slapping her hand to her face. Just what had she gotten herself into _now_? She looked to him, flabbergasted. "Why do you even _want_ to flirt with me? Because if it's just a game then tell me now so I can tell you _exactly_ how I feel about that."

"You want to know why I am flirting with you? What kind of question is that?" he laughed again, quieting it after she gave him a look. "Well, if you must know—."

"Ah, there you are!" the familiar voice of Federico came, and Catherine was relieved, as usual, for his timely arrival. He brushed some dust from his clothes as he approached them, Ezio grinning.

"I take it you lost Vieri fairly easily?"

The elder brother smirked, "Of course. His arrogance is only outmatched by his foolishness."

"Well, glad you made it out alright. I take it we should return to the _Palazzo_, though?" the redhead mused, to which both brothers nodded.

"We will get the bread another time. It is only a few hours until supper, anyways. You are up for one last run home?"

Catherine nodded, "You know it. Just lead the way."

"As you wish, my lady," Federico chuckled with a mock bow and started off. She made to follow after, but paused when she saw Ezio with that cheeky look, about to open his mouth. She quickly jabbed a finger at him.

"No," she growled firmly, and then glared when he tried to speak. "_No_."

She took off before he could try a third time, but she still heard him laugh as he trailed after.

**-O-**

If there was any one thing Catherine was inexplicable sure of after today, it was that she was going to die here. Ironically, it wouldn't be because she was running across roofs and happened to fall or came across some foul character like "Vieri". Rather, it would be the rules of Renaissance society—particularly when it came to dinner etiquette. She was positive she'd done all of it wrong, and she swore Maria Auditore was about to throttle her, although she bore a perfectly calm demeanor the whole night. The redhead could sense it, though, and it was oddly worse than the first night. It didn't help that Claudia was still pissed at her and made what snide comments she could, although they were _subtle_. They could easily be excused as a careless comment, but it was definitely an insult.

Whatever the case, Renaissance etiquette was going to be the end of her. She didn't know which spoon or fork or even knife to use, of which there were too many of, and then there was something about the proper order to eat anything and good God—just where to sit was crazy! Why had it been so easy the night before? It seemed unreal. Maybe it was because Maria had lost her sympathy for her and now expected more? Or were they mad about her adventures today? She had no idea, and she was just so damn happy to be done with dinner and able to slip away to bathe—which was the closest to normal she'd found so far—and return to her room.

It was getting a little dark by then, and so she'd gone to try and turn on the light when she'd came the other thing that would possibly spell the end of her: the lack of technology. She was so used to her modern conveniences, but now if she wanted to see at night she needed a candle. There was no electricity, no AC, no flash lights, no microwaves, no fridges, no televisions, no computers, no radio, no _nothing_. She hadn't noticed it right away with all the crazy things that had been going on, but she was already missing her phone and her games and shows and just _everything_. It wasn't the same, and she felt more out place than ever as she curled into her bed and buried her head into the pillow. Even that was different, though.

She wanted to cry again. She wasn't normally one to try and last night she considered a moment of weakness that was completely reasonable. Still, she had to bite her tongue hard to keep from making a sob as she clutched at the sheets. She supposed there wasn't so much to cry about—the Auditores _had_ been kind to her, and she had been having fun despite everything, but _still_. This wasn't home. She missed her mother, and she hadn't gotten to say good-bye or anything before she was taken away. She dreaded to think what her Mom was going through. She'd already lost one loved one just a few years ago and now _her_? It just wasn't fair.

_'Why did it have to be me'? _Catherine whimpered silently, refusing to say it aloud for fear it might become a choked sob instead. She looked to the Clock, resting silently on the nightstand. It was cold as always, and she dreaded to think the man from her time travel had been wrong; that it couldn't help her and that she was stuck here. What the hell was she even supposed to do? It didn't make sense! She was just the average college sophomore! She didn't have any special skills that could help someone like Giovanni or that called for some special time-travel task.

"Should have just left it alone," she spat through grit teeth, wishing she could go back and never go down those stupid steps to that stupid room. If only it were that easy, but she doubt even if she could control the damned Clock it wouldn't let her go back. It could never be that easy. Life never was. She knew that well enough.

Shuddering, she shut her eyes and pulled the covers over her head. She hated being so powerless, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't go back, and she could not see a way forward. She was stuck where she was, forced to let others lead her. Would it be so hard to just give her _something_, though?

"Please help me—whoever you are… I _need_ help. I don't know what to do. I need a sign or something or even a hint!" she whispered desperately, not caring who heard her—the Clock; the woman; anyone. She hated how the device made her feel so pathetic, but she could not fight it and she was stuck. All she could do was grow frustrated and hope it would grant her some reprieve.

The silence was deafening and yet said all that needed to be said.

Catherine was alone in this, and so she despaired.

* * *

**04 **– _End_

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**TMWolf**: _And there's chapter 4! Hope you enjoyed the fun time, what with Ezio being the cheeky, adorable bastard he is and Federico being... well, Federico ID And oooh yes, Vieri IS going to be showing his face more than once and you can bet your ass he'll be some trouble ;) Vieri is... fun. hehehehehe._

_Right. So. This is essentially how Catherine trains and is going to learn how to do wall climbs, which, despite the game making us think so, is not that easy. So cue frustrated red head and sore arms and legs from running a lot, ha ha. The game is also a normal thing, although I totally made it up. I figured it was a good game to use, though. And, yes, 'Rico has the best time-like 40 seconds or something. He's THAT good. He's 'Rico after all._

_Now, hm... oh, yeah, so the Cat-woes-before-bed is a little something that is going to continue; kinda a recurring thing WITH a point to it. Kinda. Maybe. You'll see, tee hee. Anyways, yeah. So while she might _seem _okay during the day, you can bet your bums things kinda come crashing down at night for her. Things are _very _different, and I knew if I wanted to keep things pretty realistic I had to make that a decent issue even if she puts on a brave face. Also because Renaissance mannerism are _ridiculous_. I could never deal with them, ha ha. Unless Maria whipped it into me I guess, ha ha.._

_Speaking of: NEXT CHAPTER IS MARIA TIME! :D Time for the mafia-er Assassin wife to show her skills ;) I can hopefully update next week, but it maaaay be delayed, which means maybe no update until the week after next. Just keep an eye on your notifications!_


	6. Name of the Game

**TMWolf**: _Whelp, got an update in this week, but most likely the delay will happen next week then, and I'll have the next chapter up some time around the 20th, so keep an eye out. As always, thank-you so much for the reviews guys! They mean a lot! :D_

_Right. So. This chapter is the Mama-Maria chapter and 'Cat learning to be a lady. Fun, right? WRONG. Or is it? You'll just have to read and see, obviously._

_Again, how the family is written is my interpretation of them based off the canon and some of my own head canon :)_

_Today's chapter title is from the Crystal Method's - Name of the Game. Obviously, the song style does _not_ fit... but the name totally does. You'll see why, ha haha_

_Now enjoy!_

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**05 **– _Name of the Game_

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**July 9, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

All her life Catherine had disliked dresses. They just weren't her thing. She didn't even like _skirts_. They always felt weird and she never liked not having something covering her legs and keeping them from rubbing together. Maybe it was because she did so many different sports and so needed lots of pants and under-armor, or that children generally didn't wear dresses to public school where she was from. Whatever the case or however it happened or for whatever reason her natural mindset was to trend towards pants and shirts, she didn't like wearing the feminine garb.

She _especially_ didn't like Renaissance dresses, though.

One of the only things she could really give the clothing was that it didn't have a corset, which meant she wasn't suffocating. It was still a little tight, but not uncomfortable—just more than she was used to. Then again, dresses were supposed to fit tighter to show off your form, and the Renaissance was not a stranger to it. On the other hand, the dress had some amazing colors and designs to it, which was pretty much the only other thing she could say nicely about it. She might even reluctantly admit it—couldn't have anyone thinking she did like it—that she though the designs were wonderful, so there was that.

Even so, she sorely wished she was in pants and a tunic.

Unfortunately for Catherine, after almost four days of working with Ezio and Federico, it was finally time to work with Maria Auditore, the terrifyingly beautiful matriarch of the family. That beauty was all too apparent in her red gown with red-leaf designs, how her obsidian hair was held with golden lace, and especially in the way she sat so perfectly; back straight, head raised high. However, it was also her nobility that gave the sense of terror. By no means did she show a snarl or even a frown—in fact, her lips were set in a pleasant smile and her eyes showed no hostility, but the sense of it was there in the air. It was like a smog that threatened to suffocate Catherine when she got too paranoid about it. The woman's gaze was terribly foreboding, too, and the redhead just wished the lady would ask what she wanted or do whatever she wanted and get over it.

At the very least, she wished Maria would do something to change the monotony that had settled in for the past hour or so. As soon as she'd woken up, the woman was there and waiting, telling her to come down when she was dressed, and it was pretty obvious _which_ clothes were intended. After that, it was a breakfast alone together—the others were out or busy apparently—where the woman gave her closer instructions on proper eating etiquette. Again, it seemed impossible to Catherine, but Maria looked pleased at the end. Maybe. Regardless, she moved the redhead to a room she hadn't been before, but similar to the main parlor. This one appeared more suited to Maria and no servants came in and out, so she suspected it might be a private room for the older woman. Whatever the case, it was there that she set them down and had her read through various books; no doubt to test her education without really asking.

_'Now that I think about it,'_ she hummed, looking at the book before her. As she had realized when first coming here, she understood Italian somehow. It should have been impossible being she'd _never_ learned Italian besides whatever her grandmother had picked up during her stay there and used whenever she could, which was generally one or two words. Not to mention this was _old_ Italian, or she assumed the language had changed in the last few hundred years like English had, so she should have had even less chance of comprehending it. Yet, here she was, reading it like it was perfect, modern American English. The letters and words hadn't changed at all, but it just made _sense_. Like it was an instant translation, and apparently she hadn't been wrong so far.

The Clock was an amazing thing, and she couldn't help wondering if it wouldn't work if it wasn't with her. She didn't dare remove it from its spot in the space between her breasts, though—she couldn't find a spot better or less noticeable—and so just let the device have its one thing worth being thankful for. She didn't know its limits, but she suspected many languages were not beyond her now. Maybe. She hadn't tested it out, or no one had mentioned her speaking other languages, so she would have to wait on that. Of course, the thought made her curiosity swell. Just _how_ did the Clock do all that? How could something have such a power? It almost made her think of the Tardis from Doctor Who, but that just _couldn't_ be true. How could it be? How could such a device exist?

"Catherine!"

The redhead's gaze shot up from her book to the young Petruccio, who smiled with delight as he scampered over, having seen her from the open door to the hallway. He paused, though, as he noticed what she was wearing and his expression fell some. It was back to normal in the next moment and he came over.

"Petruccio, it's good to see you up. It looks like I'm a lady today, which means I could use a knight," she chuckled, taking his hands in hers.

He grinned, "I can do that! Although, I was hoping you might tell me another of your stories."

"Ooh, well, I do have plenty more," she grinned right back, but both of them faltered when the sound of a book closing came from behind them. The young boy spun around and flushed, bowing his head. He hadn't noticed his mother there, who regarded her son with a warm, but stern expression.

"Catherine is occupied at the moment, my little one. And you should be studying," she spoke calmly, but that motherly tone was there.

"Yes, Mother. Forgive me," he replied softly, and then turned to the redhead to bow his head to her, too. "Forgive me as well, Lady Catherine. We will have to continue another time."

"Of course. Perhaps when I am not a lady anymore," Catherine chuckled softly, obtaining one last upward flick of the young boy's mouth before he scurried away, leaving the redhead the sole receiver of Maria's gaze after closing the door. She, too, flushed, and looked back down to her book, hoping it would appease the woman. As expected, it did not.

"Do you write, Catherine?" the older woman inquired, and the redhead briefly glanced at her.

"Sort of. Mostly just… little fantasies."

Maria hummed, "I trust your father educated you, considering his… profession."

"Um, yes."

"I see… what did he teach you, exactly? Art? Music? Dance? I would inquire of your needlework, but something tells me you do not know of that one."

The woman smiled a bit wryly, and Catherine's cheeks burned all the more. Normally, she took such pride in being boyish and never cared what anyone thought about it, but under the woman's gaze… it felt so shameful. How was it that Maria commanded such power? It was insane. Then again, she _was_ the wife of an Assassin. She probably had to be like this. God forbid if she ever truly angered the woman.

"Um… I know how to draw and paint—I'm better at drawing, though. I've played some instruments a little, but I've never properly danced. I did needlework maybe once, but it was as a child."

"Hmm… you will have to show me some time. I would like to know the extent of your education. It would serve well in the future, although I already know to begin with proper speech and to continue working on your etiquette."

"Sorry—Er—ah, I mean, um… Forgive me. I was… ah, raised with a lack of other women or nobles."

"It will be remedied. In the meantime, perhaps it would do well to know you better, no?" Maria hummed, and Catherine shifted a little uneasily.

"Of course… what would you like to, um, know?"

"Before that—you would do well to speak without saying 'um'. It is an improper word for a lady of your class," the woman waved, and the redhead inwardly groan. Great. Talking like a noble was going to be like talking in a presentation or to employers, but all the time. She looked back to Maria as she continued. "Now. How much do you know of your father's work?"

"His banking…?" she tried, but the older woman's sharp look said otherwise. "To be honest, I don't know much of what _he_ does, per say. That is, I don't know who he's 'dealing' with. I do know about his work and what they do. A little. Not a lot. Enough, though. He had me trained some to defend myself, so he ultimately told me about it to know why."

She really hoped that was keeping true with her and Giovanni's little cover story. She still had the basics down, and so far no one really seemed to question it, be it out of respect for the Assassin or being satisfied. However, once it was added to, that meant more facts to remember, and she just hoped she could remember them all or well enough. At least Maria was one of the ones that knew more of the truth than the others. Federico she was pretty sure did, but he never said otherwise, so she could be wrong. He didn't seem one to question his father's orders regardless of what they were, anyways.

Maria nodded, "I see. And so he has sent you here for protection because my husband owes him a favor."

"Yes," Catherine replied, though had a sinking feeling in her gut. That didn't seem like the usual statement. She watched the woman stand, the book abandoned, and she walked around the center of the room, coming closer to her. Catherine glanced about, hoping there was someone in sight, but the door was closed and they were alone. She suspected Maria had planned for that.

"It must have been quite serious work if he sent you here on such short notice and without warning. It is not becoming of a man of his occupation. And certainly it was a great favor if my husband remembered it after all these years of knowing him. It must have been before we met, of course; I know all of my husband's contacts and co-workers."

"I-I guess? My father didn't speak about it much, either, besides that he goes on missions for the, ah… _bank_. I didn't even know about all of you until I came here. I didn't mean to inconvenience you."

"I am sure you did not," Maria replied sternly, although one might not think that at first. The young woman looked up, confused and her heart racing.

"E-excuse me? I… did I… Have I done something… wrong?"

"No—not yet. At least, not that I have seen. I merely wish to understand why it is you are here and what your purpose is. My husband may be willing to wait, but I am not."

Catherine froze, her throat tightening, and wanted to look away—no, she wanted to _run_ away—but couldn't. The woman's eyes were cold, calculating, and callous. She had a knife to the redhead's throat, and she hadn't even known it was there. The tension was real now, and she feared every word she might say. So she said nothing. She let the woman watch her, tearing her apart with the silence.

"So. You understand," Maria spoke after the long, suffocating pause, and she must have seen Catherine flinch, because she came to stand before the redhead, arms clasps in front of her. "Good. Tell me, then: who are you and what are you doing here? Do not lie to me, either—I already know my husband has because he believes it is the best way to keep us safe, but I will know what danger you pose to my family. Now, answer."

Her throat was suddenly parched as she licked her lips nervously, "I-I'm Catherine Wolfe."

"Are you?"

"Yes. Yes! That _is_ my name. And… and I'm here because… because my father—."

"Your father or _Mentor_? I told you to not lie to me, child."

"I… alright—alright! My father isn't all what we said he was. I was sent here from… from far away. I honestly can't say where for reasons I can't say, too, but I know I was sent here to find Giovanni and help all of you."

"Help us? With that? Do you possess some skill?" she demanded, face more serious and laced with concern.

"I don't know," Catherine replied, and flinched under the woman's fierce gaze again. "I don't—really, I don't! I-I don't… I know about the Order and Templars, but I'm no Assassin, so I don't know why I was sent, and I'm not even sure _who_ sent me, but they think I can help."

"So you are sent here by someone _you_ do not know and for a purpose you are not aware of? Surely you see how preposterous that is. Why is it you cannot say, hmm? Has the Order forbidden it? Is that what you told my husband? Do you not see how this appears?"

"Of course I do, I just—I don't… it's all just—ugh!" the redhead wailed, grabbing both sides of her head and leaning down. Her head hurt and she wanted to run away but she was trapped and it was all just too much right now. Her eyes stung with frustration, and she wished to wake up from this nightmare once again. "I mean it when I say I _don't know_! I haven't known a damn thing that's been going on since I got here, and I'm sorry I've lied to you, but ever since I got here I've been told to do all these things that I don't completely understand, and to make it worse the only way I can go back home to my old life is to help, but Giovanni won't let me! I'm _stuck_ here in a place I don't know, and I can't do anything about it, and everyone just keeps asking me to do or say things I can't answer and it's just making everything worse! I don't want to hurt you or the Order or anyone! I just want to see my family again! I just want to go _home_!"

Her body and especially her lips trembled as she sat there, clutching at her hair, hoping it would all just go away. She'd never been a weak person except when pushed to her limit, and normally that was when faced with tough school work like Math or Physics, but this—this was so much worse. She didn't know how to handle this, not when she had so few options or information to go off of. What the hell was she supposed to do? What the hell was anyone supposed to do in her situation?!

She felt fingers on hers and sucked in a shaky breath of air as she looked up. She was surprised to find not coldness, but a pitying warmth that she had not seen before. Her hands fell away to her lap, but Maria's remained there, cupping her face, and the woman smiled softly at her.

"Be at ease, young Catherine," she spoke softly; like a mother would to her crying babe. Her expression became sad as she rubbed her cheek with her thumb. "You truly are a child still…"

She was, wasn't she? She was nineteen, but she still knew so little. She didn't know adult responsibilities yet. She was still going through college. She only knew to take her school work seriously and not procrastinate, but the problems of the world? Anything she'd learned was by word of mouth or if her mother was watching the news. She didn't know the true pains of responsibility, and she especially didn't know the full depth of what Maria and Giovanni and their family had to endure.

The older woman's normal smile returned as she released Catherine's head and sat beside her. The heavy air from before was gone, and she no longer felt so afraid. There was still a weight on her shoulders, but it was not nearly as heavy.

"What was your father like? Your _real _father?" the woman inquired with a knowing look and Catherine chuckled. She meant to open her mouth to speak, but paused for a brief moment. She wanted to tell the truth, yet a feeling flashed through her gut and different words spilled out from her, guilt flowing with them. She had to, though. She'd already given too much of the truth.

"He... He _is_ an Assassin… I'm pretty sure, anyways. He never said outright, but he does work as a banker, too. I don't question it much. He's a good man, though—he does all he can to support me and his servants no matter what."

"That is good. I can tell he loved you dearly—you have a strength to you… one a child only gets when they are loved. That is very good. Do not worry; you will return to him. He will ensure it. Certainly, I would be sad to lose any child of mine."

The redhead forced a happy smile, "Me, too."

"Hmm… do you have siblings, Catherine?" the woman asked, but the redhead shook her head. Maria pursed her lip. "Ah, a pity. I would have thought you did, though—the way you act with Petruccio…"

"I've been around quite a few people younger and older that I consider like siblings, and I couldn't let Petruccio play by himself."

"I see. Well, he is lucky then, and I am glad… Oh, but we have sat here long enough, do you not think? It is time we returned to your lessons."

Catherine sighed with relief. Though she hated the lessons, she hated answering questions like this more. It was too easy to slip up and say something she shouldn't and mess everything up like she had. At least it was with _Maria_ and not one of the kids or servants. The older woman knew what to do and Giovanni seemed to listen to her, so maybe he wouldn't get mad.

"I'm doing what I can to learn proper eating etiquette. I… well, I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't exactly properly taught these things. I preferred to romp about, and with my father an Assassin he wasn't always around…"

"Your etiquette _is_ rather…lacking, but you are proving to be a fast learner. You will be eating properly soon enough, but for now I will teach you to be a lady of _Firenze_. First, stand for me and walk—keep your back straight and head high—and go to the entry way and back," Maria instructed, and Catherine nodded as she stood. Taking in a breath of air, she imagined how the older woman had done it or queens did. She walked as gracefully as she hoped she was able, although couldn't help worrying she was going to step on her dress in her stupid shoes. She wanted her boots badly. The slippers always seemed like they'd fall off or catch the hem of her dress, which was much too long. She somehow managed, though, and waited on Maria, who looked her up and down carefully.

"Not bad, but you could be better. Hold still a moment," the older woman said before standing up and reaching behind Catherine's head to touch at her hair, held up by netting similar to Maria's. That, too, was somewhat uncomfortable, if only because it was a little itchy and she never liked her hair being down, but it wasn't all that bad. There must have had a few hairs loose, though, as the older woman took a bit of time adjusting her locks and then stood back to admire her work. She nodded. "Much better. Your posture is a bit stiff, but you are unused to it. Come. We will walk the streets and I will teach you things you must remember always."

"Alright," the redhead nodded, and followed the woman as told through the hallways of the _Palazzo_ out into the courtyard and warm air. She loathed the dress for yet another reason—it felt warmer than the boy's clothes, and she suspected it was the extra layering or just thicker material. Maria was unfazed, however, and the woman brought her to the exit where she finally paused.

"Today we walk only a little ways, but later we will go farther. In fact… you said you know art, yes?" she asked and smiled thoughtfully when the redhead nodded. "Then I must have you meet a friend of mine some time—an artist. He is becoming more popular, so you may know his work."

"Oh. That sounds fun, actually. Could I perhaps get charcoal and paper to draw on from him?"

"We could get them for you, Catherine," Maria laughed. "I think you will enjoy meeting our friend very much. But another time. For now, come; watch and do as I do."

"Sure," the redhead replied, taking in the older woman's stance as she followed once more. "So… there are some things I need to know, too?"

"Yes. To begin with, a proper lady does not use 'sure' and 'alright', when answering. They use 'yes' or 'no' or 'of course' or the like. You must speak properly and never betray what you are really thinking. Always show politeness even in the face of rudeness. If you do not, then you give the people the chance to think poorly of you, and it is a terrible thing to be thought poorly of by others. You must never insult them, either—at least, not that you _mean _to. It must appear that you mean no harm and yet they _know_ you do. It is a game, of sorts, that we play."

"It doesn't sound like a game that I want to play. I prefer to be honest… and blunt," she hummed with a foolish grin.

The corner of Maria's mouth curved upwards, "And that is admirable, but a lady must be honest in a _sophisticated_ way. Of course, we must never truly speak our mind. Our thoughts are meant to reflect our husband's or father's ideas. We are not to be seen having our own, although all know we do. Sometimes we must remind them, but it is seldom and only when opportune. Otherwise, it is uncalled for and unbecoming."

"So I need to keep my mouth shut basically?"

"Catherine, do take this seriously," the woman spoke a bit curtly, sending Catherine an admonishing look. The redhead removed her grin at once. "But, yes… if you do not think you can speak properly, then sometimes it is wiser to not speak at all, but you cannot always remain silent. Silence will give them room to speak, and speaking without check leads to rumors, and rumors lead to nothing good. Oh, and when you do speak, do not use your contractions or 'so' or boyish or lower words. Noble ladies are the epitome of elegance and we must both show and speak it."

"That's… er… That is certainly not my strong suit."

"As long as you can fool the others, then it is fine. Everyone wears a mask in this game, and you need only keep them from seeing beneath it. And if you can see _their_ face underneath… well, you have gained an advantage. Just remember to not give them one, either."

"I have been known to play peace maker well enough. I… might be able to handle it?" Catherine sighed, wanting badly to rub the back of her head, but they were in public and she was a lady. Ladies did not rub the back of their heads. They probably didn't sigh, either, but anybody looking their way was doing so from afar. No one dared approached them, and she wondered if it was because of Maria. The family seemed well known, and they were powerful. Not just anyone came up to a member of a powerful family. Either way, she was glad to not be bothered.

The redhead frowned as a thought came to mind, "Claudia is rather… boisterous, though."

"Ah, yes… my darling Claudia is spoiled, unfortunately. It is my husband's fault; she is his only little girl and he grew so attached to her… The damage has been done I am afraid, and though I can quell her sometimes, her temper is ferocious. She will make a fine lady one day, but not any time soon… and certainly she will have no husband before."

"I'm—I mean… I am sure she will find a husband who will enjoy her outgoing attitude."

"You must work on your lying, my dear—your tone gives you away. What of your own suitors, though? Surely you have had some by now. You are nineteen, correct?" Maria inquired as they came to a stone bench besides a garden and sat down. The redhead followed her lead, sitting down beside her, and looked out into the crowd. It was a bright, sunny day with many people—women, children, and men—out and about. There were even a few dogs and cats here and there, and in the distance she could hear a bard singing with a terrible tune.

"Well," Catherine began, looking away sheepishly as she twiddled her fingers in her lap. "Not really. I mean, I _am _nineteen, but for 'suitors'…I have thought some men, um, suitable for a husband, but they did not share the sentiment. I have been unlucky so far."

"A pity. But perhaps for the best considered your situation. I suppose I cannot say much, though—I did not marry until I was twenty, and I was quite wild in my youth myself," the older woman laughed lightly, and the redhead looked to her with surprise. Maria smiled humorously. "What? You did not expect a lady such as I to be a reckless young girl?"

"Er… well, _no_. You're—you are so sophisticated."

"Then it will surprise you to know I was quite sheltered in my younger years, but I loathed it. Ooh, how I _loathed_ it. I loved infuriating my parents, however. I would go out and fraternize with the lower classes and they would be so enraged! We had such fights! Ah, I remember them fondly. It ended up working out quite well, though; we finally compromised and I opened a bakery in my home. It was there I met Giovanni. Oh, Giovanni… he was so kind and charming! I could not resist, and it seems neither could he."

"Huh. I see where his sons get it from then. Or, well, Federico, anyways. Er—do ladies say 'anyways'?" Catherine frowned, but the older woman waved off her concern.

"No, but you will become skilled in time. You are right about my sons, though—they _did_ inherit his charm. Unfortunately, only Federico inherited how to use it _properly_. Ezio, however…," the woman sighed, shaking her head. "He is far too occupied with his new favorite 'activity'."

"No kidding," the redhead snorted, and then flushed when Maria looked at her, brow raised. "He, ah… he was rather… he has been attempting to court me the last few days, although I think it's more of a game than anything serious now."

"God, help me, that boy!" the woman rasped, touching at her brow. "Forgive him, my dear. He is seventeen, but still acts like a child!"

"Oh, don't worry—I can handle him. Federico helps, too. Petruccio is quite the gentleman, though. He will end up like Federico, I am sure," Catherine smiled, and Maria chuckled.

"Indeed, although I fear he will not be as strong as his brothers. Perhaps smarter," she hummed, her usual calm demeanor faltering for a moment. She shook it away, though, and made a happier sigh. "Well, I do hope they are all treating you well otherwise and you are enjoying your stay here."

"Oh, I am. I mean… Ugh, I keep saying 'I mean', and I don't mean to… Um. Right, ah… As I was saying… I still miss my home badly, but I _am_ enjoying the time I spend with you, although sometimes it gets confusing."

"With what, if I may ask?"

She frowned, scrunching up a bit, "Well… to be honest—like with you. Not long ago I thought you might kill me or something and now… now we're—we are chatting like it was nothing."

"Hmm… I suppose that would be confusing, but it is quite simple, really; you spoke truthfully with me. Though it took much duress, you did so and you have shown you do no bode ill will for us so far. Indeed, you seem good at heart. You are in need of help, as well. For that, I see no reason to act coldly or lie about simple things to you. You will find my husband is much the same when you come to know him, although for now he will still seem uncertain. It is in his nature, however, and I'm sure you realize he must. Give him time, though, and he will give you that chance you so need—more than what he has given you already, that is. But for now, you have earned trust from me."

"I… thank-you, Lady Maria," Catherine replied, cheeks flushed in her humbled state. She bowed her head respectfully, though still wondered if that was the full truth. It _felt_ like it, but it seemed too good to be that—too easy, almost, but perhaps it was just because it had seemed so hard before? She couldn't help thinking this was all part of that game, too—earning trust. Honesty for honesty. Lies for lies. Disdain for disdain. So far she seemed to be winning, but she wondered how long it might last.

"Come. I think we have rested here enough, and you must still practice your stride. Then we can see more about the extent of your education and skills when we return to the _Palazzo_," Maria spoke up as she stood. Even that simple motion showed off her elegance, and Catherine only wished she could stand so perfectly.

"I do need work on my etiquette," the redhead chuckled softly.

The woman smiled, "Indeed."

"I'll try not to disappoint—although I guess I have a little already," she hummed, and Maria shared in her amusement.

"Not disappoint—perhaps… _surprised_ is the better term, but worry not," the older woman replied, glancing back. Catherine grinned a bit playfully before scanning about, noticing others were occasionally looking their way again. Maria must have noticed as she continued, "You must pay no mind to eyes on you. A lady is seen but never shows she has noticed. She is to be admired and yet appear humble still. Do not fear their approach, either; only the truly bold will do so, and even fewer will speak to those with known influence unless they have influence themselves."

"Ah, right. I guess I'm just not used to being noticed. Er—I _am_ not used to it. Ugh… not using contractions is hard," the redhead sighed.

"Refrain from sighing so much—ladies should rarely do so unless it is called for. Always appear calm and in repose; as if nothing may touch you and everything is beneath you, and yet you a creature of benevolence. As for your contractions… until you are better in your speech, we will pass it off due to you being English and your Italian not perfected."

"Good idea… good grief, though—how does a lady remember all of this? It's got to be the hardest game invented!"

Maria laughed lightly, "It merely takes practice. Eventually it becomes second nature and you do not even know you are doing it. Give it time, my dear. As I said—I _will_ make you into a proper woman. Or, at least, proper enough to pass during your time here."

"Enough to appease Giovanni?"

"Yes. Enough to appease my husband," the older woman hummed, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She motioned at the redhead. "Back straighter, head up. Remember that. Eyes forward as well unless talking to me or admiring something with serene."

"Right. I'll… I _will_ try," Catherine sighed, and again Maria laughed. A moment later, the redhead laughed, too, and didn't think it would be so bad anymore.

At least, for a little while.

**-O-**

"I admit I am surprised you are wearing a dress, Catherine. It is one of my old ones, no? I am glad it fits, although the style is so no longer common now… but I suppose there was not much you could do about it."

Claudia was still mad at her. That, Catherine was sure of. It had been a few days and she had been as courteous and kind as possible whenever the Auditore's daughter passed by, but the young woman still had only daggers for the redhead. She had to admit she was a little surprised. She thought the young Auditore might have not been so keen to hold onto such a silly thing, but it turned out she was wrong. Then again, Claudia was _young_—just a teenager. She still wouldn't mature for some time, and it had been hinted she wouldn't unless a man that could handle her temperament married her.

Until then, though, she would remain a grudge holder, and it was all too evident; especially now that the redhead understood the game some. Although, Claudia didn't really hide her tone all that well, a notion Catherine wasn't surprised about. She was more like her brothers than her mother, and she suspected the young Auditore would be a proud, haughty woman most her life. Not that she thought anything was wrong with it, but it wasn't exactly good for her in this century.

"It fits perfectly, Claudia," Catherine smiled sweetly before swallowing another spoonful of soup. She made sure to keep mind of what utensils she used, as Maria had gone through quite a few pains to teach her before dinner. It would have been insulting to forget so soon. Her eyes flickered to the woman, who looked pleased with her work. She should be. Already she'd already learned a lot, although mastering it would take ages. "I am only glad you did not throw them out, else I'd have no dresses to wear!"

"Oh? I thought you preferred men's clothes?" Claudia mused, her tone biting and without restraint. Maria's face changed to displeasure, glancing sharply to her daughter, though the young woman paid no mind. The mother looked to her husband then, who simply smiled like a mischievous young boy.

"Well, they _are_ more comfortable," Catherine replied with a smile, but before the daughter could go on, her father coughed lightly.

"Now, now, Claudia—let our guest eat a bit more before you ask your questions," he hummed, and his daughter huffed. Giovanni chuckled as he turned to the redhead, who sat two seats down from him. "I assume you enjoyed your time with Maria today, Catherine?"

She nodded, setting her spoon down, "Yes. I admit she was a strict teacher… but it was fun."

"Ah, then you got off easy," Federico rumbled, and then grinned when his mother sent him a sharp look. "I only jest mother! You know I have the utmost respect for your teaching."

"Speak for yourself! I only remember the pain," Ezio snickered, and the older woman rolled her eyes. Catherine raised a brow to the young man, who sat to her right.

"Well, I imagine the dresses _would_ be a little uncomfortable on you—you're much too big for them. Although, I'm sure you would look beautiful in one that fit proper," she smirked, and the young man blinked for a moment while his brothers laughed before he grinned himself.

"I assure you look far better, though, my Lady," he purred in reply.

"But of course—blue isn't your color. You're more suited for reds or golds."

"I think I saw just the dress and slippers today. You would make quite the woman in it, brother!" Federico snickered, and even Claudia couldn't keep her giggles at bay while Petruccio laughed giddily.

"Shut up!" Ezio smirked back, kicking his brother's leg beneath the table. The two started to fight a little, much to their siblings' enjoyment, and also their father's, though the man hid it deftly.

"Boys—no rough housing at the table," Maria commanded, not sharing in the enjoyment, and both young men simmered down, but only for a moment.

"I don't suppose you will join us in your new garbs tomorrow?" Ezio asked, and she raised a brow as his odd tone. She couldn't help noticing him looking over her a bit, too.

"Oh, I would love to—truly I would, but Maria has me tomorrow again, and I doubt she will let me go free. You'll just have to wear a dress in my stead," Catherine winked playfully, and the young man rolled his eyes again.

"She will be busy with me, my son; you will simply have to do without our guest for another day or so," Maria replied before he could, and her look suggested he not continue the subject. Pouting, he relented and ate more of his soup.

"I still do not see your fascination with romping about with my brothers. What is so fun with rolling around and getting dirty?" Claudia sighed, shaking her head.

Catherine smiled, "It is the thrill of it, really, and they are quite fun to be around. Well, Federico is, anyways."

"Must you wound me so, my lady? I am starting to think you truly dislike me!" the young brother groaned dramatically.

"And here I thought I wasn't being obvious enough."

"That is hardly a proper answer!" Claudia huffed.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot give a proper answer. I simply enjoy it, just as you enjoy being a lady."

"Pay no mind to it, Claudia," Giovanni spoke up again, and his daughter looked at him accusingly for a moment before turning away. Obviously, she wasn't used to Daddy not letting her get her way. At least, that's what Catherine figured. He looked to his sons next. "Catherine will be returned to your care in a few days. I trust you can be patient for that long?"

"Yes, father," both nodded, and the redhead held back her snort.

'_Yeah, because Ezio will be too busy flirting with every woman he sees to know I'm not there,'_ she hummed silently behind her drink. Not that she would say that. Not at the table, anyways—and not as a lady. When they were out running? Oh, yes. She would definitely do so. They didn't care what she said then much, and Federico generally found it funny. She maybe should have been insulted he did laugh at her antics, but it was better than him being angered by it.

"Can Catherine still tell me stories even though she is a lady right now? I really wanted to hear one today," Petruccio inquired, looking to his mother, who glanced to the redhead and then back to her son.

"I do not see why not. I do wish to see what art she can make as well."

"You draw?" Federico inquired, to which Catherine smiled sheepishly.

"Some. I prefer to, ah, 'doodle', if you will, but I can do more detailed pieces. I'm nowhere near a master, but I enjoy it."

"You are full of all kinds of skills it seems," Ezio chuckled.

She glanced at him, "I told you that you don't know me."

"Perhaps we should change that," he winked back, purring once more.

"_Ezio_," Giovanni called out suddenly, and the young man flinched as if struck. No more was needed to be said; the second son pressed his lips firmly together and resigned himself to focusing on his meal. No doubt he'd broken some etiquette about flirting at the table. Of course, she didn't really know besides what Maria told her, but she could only guess. Either way, she felt a twinge of glee from it; having gotten the young man in trouble. Childish? Perhaps. It was still fun, though.

"So Catherine, what story will you tell me next?" Petruccio spoke up, hardly fazed, if at all, by the tension that had briefly formed. The redhead smiled as she turned toward him.

"It's a surprise! Buut… it does involve four children and a wardrobe."

He made a funny face, "A wardrobe? That doesn't sound like much of a story."

"Well, that is because I haven't told it to you yet."

"Oooh! I cannot wait then!" he giggled before returning to his food.

"Just allow your mother to tend to Catherine beforehand. If she does well, I see no reason she will keep her longer than needed," Giovanni smiled, and Maria nodded in agreement.

"She is learning quickly—I doubt you will wait long, my son," the woman smiled, rubbing her child's head affectionately. The young boy grinned before he asked his father a question, but the resulting conversation was lost on Catherine as Ezio fidgeted slightly.

"So you are kind to even _Petruccio_ and not me, hmm?" a whisper came from her right, and she flickered her eyes towards the young man, who wore a pout.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. You've deserved every rebuff," she whispered back behind her cup.

"I have been nothing short of gentlemanly while you act like a shrew."

She made a point to discretely dig her heel into his foot, "I am _hardly_ a shrew when your 'gentlemanly' act is you trying to flirt every second you can so you can get into my pants."

"It is a _compliment_!" he hissed, and to his credit he didn't make any indication it hurt. His foot hitting her calf, however, made her think it had.

"A compliment or harassment?" she snapped back, though kept her voice low, and hit his calf right back.

He knocked her ankle.

"Must you be _difficult_?"

She stomped on his toes.

"Must you be _obnoxious_?"

"Are we interrupting you two?"

Both Catherine and Ezio's head shot up, eyes wide, and found the others at the table looking at them. Maria was disapproving. Federico was amused. Claudia looked incredulous. Petruccio was a little confused. Giovanni was stuck between amusement and the same disapproval his wife had. The redhead, personally, was embarrassed. Badly. Her cheeks burned, and she only hoped Ezio was just as flustered. He did seem to have shrunk down and found his food incredibly interesting.

"Ah, no, father. Forgive me. I, ah… was simply teasing Lady Catherine again. I should not have. I apologize," the young man stated after a moment, much to Catherine's surprise.

"But—ah… I,um, should not have egged him on."

"Very well … see to it that it does not happen again," the Auditore patriarch hummed, eyeing them briefly before returning to his food. Both she and Ezio mumbled a short "yes" or along those lines and returned to their meal as well. Catherine made a point to behave from then on—she had done well thus far; she didn't need to ruin her chances.

Thankfully, the young man next to her was smart enough to do the same and both were able to get through dinner without incidence. However, that was not enough to spare her from a small lecture once it was over, but that was all to be had from it. She knew to reign herself in a bit more, and hoped Ezio would do the same, although he would probably forget by the morning. That would have to wait to be seen, though, and after a few more hours in the parlor it was time to sleep again. As usual, Catherine missed the times when sleeping and being able to be by herself in her room was a comfort, but it was not to be.

Thoughts of home and hopelessness again invaded her mind, but she was able to find some solace in that it didn't make her cry or want to. No, that was perhaps over and only a numbness remained, instilled by a growing dislike for the damned device that had brought her here. Every night she asked it for help, and every night it was silent. This night was no different, and though life had not gotten harder with the Auditore's, she still went to sleep with the heavy weight of it on her chest. If there was any other solace to be found, though, it was that it only took an hour or so for sleep to find her that night.

* * *

**05 **– End

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**TMWolf: **_And so ends chapter five and 'Cat's lessons for the day with Maria! Speaking of... I also imagined her as this awesome Mafia boss wife. I mean, just the way she acts with her son and also in both Lineage and Brotherhood... She's totally mafia boss going on, don't deny it. So, yeah. She's pretty harsh and suspicious at first, but she _is _also a _mother_. As such, I feel she'd have a soft spot for a "child" in distress like how Catherine was... because even at nineteen she doesn't act like an adult would, which, during that era, fourteen was practically an adult. Also, Maria isn't as harsh as Giovanni, but she can be if she needs to be (a.k.a. if the bear cub are in trouble)._

_Anyways, so this is our look into Maria, and hope people caught some hints on what other people are to come hue hue hue~ *shameless* Oh, and hope you enjoyed the little cat fight at the end there *slightly bricked for slight pun?*. I did, anyways, and pfft Ezio so would .A. cheeky little bugger. Makes naughty children out of both of them._

_Whelp, next chapter is going to be even _more _fun and set up some other stuff and a little something I'm sure everyone will enjoy hehehehe... But yeah, so stick around for a fun chapter coming up next and a few more to come~_


	7. Disparate Youth

**TMWolf: **_You're in luck readers-managed to get enough writing in to have another chapter done, so it's update time! I'll try to update again next week, but we'll see how it goes. Anyways, glad you guys enjoyed Maria time, but now it's back for the boys and it gets exciting this chapter! :)_

_As always, I use my own interpretations to write some of these characters~_

_Also, as always, thank-you so much for all your reviews! You guys are the best!_

_For my guest reviews:_

**_Dobby's here:_**_ Man, I have good timing with you apparently, ha ha... and keep on the look out-you just might get that chapter ;) Dude, Maria would own the "deal with it" so hard. But she wouldn't even need shades. She's just THAT awesome. Oh, and don't worry about typos, ha ha. I can speak/read typo :P_

_**Guest**: Yup! New chapter and another one today! :'D_

_This chapter's title is from Santigold - Disparate Youth. I thought it fit well enough. Kinda. Describes 'Cat anyways. I think. Whatever. I like the song and the title sounded good, so there, hehe._

_And now time for the story! Enjoy, guys! :)_

_If you see any errors/mistakes/etc. or have any questions (spoiler-free ones), feel free to let me know or ask!_

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**06** \- Disparate Youth

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**July 13, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine sighed and rubbed at her eyes, the lids heavy and tired, but sleep would not come to her. Normally it was so easy for her to nod off, but lately it had been hard. Even sore limbs couldn't make it come fast, and the anguish of the Clock made staying in the bed unbearable. She needed to be away from it, and since it was safe in her room, she had taken up a candle and ventured out into the main hallway. There were wooden shelves along the wall, all lined with books or some kind of ornament. She didn't know if it would do much good, but she had pulled one down to read. It turned out to be the _Divine Comedy_, and she couldn't help seeing the humor in that. It did not ease her mind, though, or let her sleep.

_'I guess at least it's nice to read the original and not modern day school version,' _she rumbled, turning the page lazily. She glanced over to her candle, the wax about half-way gone. How long had she been out here now? The stick had definitely been taller before. God, she didn't know anymore. She was exhausted—potentially delirious, she wouldn't put it past that—but she just couldn't fall asleep. Oh, she knew why. She was too stressed. Every night her stupid worries and anxieties came rushing back with nothing to stop them. In a way, she was used to it at this point—it had been almost ten days since she'd been with the Auditore's after all. She didn't cry anymore, but the weight of it all was still too much.

Another sigh escaped Catherine as she shut the book and leaned her forehead into her palm, nestled on the arm of the chair in the corner of the hallway. Hadn't she been punished enough already? The _least_ the stupid Clock could have done was make it certain she could have a peaceful night's rest. She was no good tired. She might push through, but she hated feeling sleepy. To make matters worse, she had to work with Federico tomorrow, which was a little ironic since she actually _loved_ running around with them. It was a blast, and she was glad to finally get back with them since she'd practiced being a lady the last three days with Maria. It just wasn't _as_ fun when she was so tired, and it also made it harder to improve.

"Catherine?"

The redhead looked up, and was just as surprised as Ezio was to find him there. She could just barely make him out in the dark, but she knew his voice by now. Even if there had been doubt, he solved the mystery himself by coming closer. She held her candle up to see him better, and noted he was in a rather disheveled state. His hair was a slight mess, and his shirt was even worse off. His vest was unbuttoned some, and his belt was buckled sloppily. It didn't take long for her to figure out what he'd been doing, and she just hoped he wasn't planning on being childish tonight.

"What are you doing up? Reading?" he inquired, smiling a bit coyly. She ignored him as she stood and headed for the shelf she'd obtained it front.

"No. Just going to bed—as should you."

"I am quite tired," he hummed, to which she snorted. He grinned, "But I might have a bit more energy to spare for you, my Lady."

"Oh, I'm sure, but I wouldn't want the _other_ ladies of _Firenze_ to start writhing in despair. So, if you don't mind, I am going to bed," she snapped. The young man frowned and opened his mouth to make some kind of retort no doubt, but closed it a moment later. Good. Maybe he would leave her alone then.

"Are… you alright, Catherine?"

She sighed for the third time that night, rubbing at her eyes, "Yes. I'm just tired and I want to go back to bed in peace."

She expected him to be foolish, stubborn, and his usual self. She expected he would continue to try flirt with her until she shouted, which would end up waking up the whole house and getting them both into trouble. It was bound to happen.

"Alright. Sleep well, 'Cat," he replied instead, and though there was a playfulness to his smile, there was also a hint of kindness.

She looked to him with surprise, but his words were genuine, or as genuine as he could get. She didn't know what to make of it, and so just nodded and returned to her room. She paused as she opened the door, looking back to him with a raised brow. She could tell he was staring at her, though couldn't properly see him now that he was in the dark. She briefly wondered what was going on in that head of his, but shook the thought away and shut the door behind her. She quickly crawled into bed and snuffed out her candle, praying she could finally get some sleep now.

By some miracle, she did.

**-O-**

**July 14, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

"Ready?"

She nodded.

Federico brought his fingers to his lips, and let out a sharp whistle.

Catherine shot off at a hard sprint. The path was different, but she was ready. At least, more ready than before. Two ribbons were in her hand before she knew it with a roof jump in between. That particular obstacle was easy now; she didn't even hesitate as she ran. Her next obstacle wasn't so bad anymore, either. It had taken a few days in a row of practice, but she scaled a short ledge with ease. She wasn't graceful like the Auditore boys—she doubted she would be for months or even years—yet it got the job done and she received far less scrapes. It took off plenty of time, too, and she soon had her fifth ribbon.

_'Five more_,' she noted silently and eyed the large wall coming her way. It was one of the ones that required a special climb, and though she'd been working at that particular technique for hours the last few times she'd worked with the boys, it still felt difficult. She was going to try, though. She had to. She wouldn't get better otherwise.

She tried to remember what the boys did; how they sprinted at full speed and then leaped up. They somehow managed to get two steps in, so she went for that. She got the first and made it as she usually did, and went for the second. As usual, her foot started to slip, but she had enough grip that she could throw her arm up and grab the ledge. Her knee banged into the hard stone, to which she cursed. It stung, but she pushed through. She had the damn hold—letting it go now would be waste. She quickly latched on with her other hand, and, ignoring the sting in her joint, she kicked off and up. She grasped the clay title above and used that to continue pulling herself over. It took longer than she wanted, but it was better than when she hadn't even tried before. Unfortunately, her knee throbbed now, and although she hadn't cracked anything, the area would hurt for a while.

"Stupid wall," Catherine grumbled as she continued on, although she couldn't run quite as fast. She pushed against the pain, and grabbed the sixth, seventh, and eighth without too much trouble. She had to scale a few more ledges, but there were no more wall climbs, so she was able to reach Ezio not long after. Her leg still throbbed as she stopped just past him.

"Not bad, kitty-cat. One minute, forty seconds. You've gotten much better," the young man smirked, and she sighed with relief before finally looking to her knee. He frowned, noticing the small dark stain within the new hole on her pants. "You are hurt?"

"Just banged it on the wall climb," she grumbled, touching at it. She grimaced at the sharp sting, but it wasn't bad. "It'll just hurt for a bit—and don't call me that."

"Well, we are done for the day, so we can see a doctor. With luck you won't need leeches," he snickered, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Just you wait—I'm gonna throw leeches at you when you're not looking."

"Must you be so cruel?"

"Must you always ask that question? Of course I will be," she smirked right back while maneuvering her leg slowly, testing the limits. Already it was becoming less painful, but the sting and throbs would stay there for an hour or so, she bet. "Honestly, you should know this by now. I don't care for your flirts and those 'charms' of yours, and I enjoy being cruel—to you, anyways. You're better off keeping your distance, little boy."

"What if I like to live dangerously, hmm? I do like a challenge," he purred, coming closer, but she just shoved the ribbons into his chest.

"If you want a challenge, then try acting like a proper gentleman."

"Now, now—fighting already? It is a little too early for that is it not?" Federico chimed as he finally joined them, his usual grin on his face.

"Never too early to put the riff raff in his place," Catherine purred, popping her vest's collar lightly while Ezio rolled his eyes.

"So it seems… So. How did she do?" the older brother hummed, and was given a grin in return.

"Much better—just forty over a minute. A few more goes as she may beat our record yet."

Federico beamed, "Well done! You were still shaky on the ledges and the wall—ah. I see you did scrape yourself some."

"Mm, yeah, but it's not bad. Don't worry," she replied, waving off his concern. "Right. Well. Do we want to do a bit more training, or what?"

"No, I think we are good for today. It would do well to take things easy for your leg, too. I know you say you are alright, but I also know you are stubborn," the older brother chuckled, a knowing look on his face.

She rolled her eyes with a smirk, "What can I say? I don't like letting little scrapes getting the best of me."

"Think of it as ending early in celebration—you have cut down your time quite a bit, after all."

"Besides, you do not have to act like a boy _all_ the time, kitty-'Cat," Ezio snickered, reaching over to brush a hair out of the way, but she intervened with a quick, light smack at his hand.

"_Don't_ call me that. It's _just_ 'Cat or Catherine," Catherine huffed, giving him a sharp glance that only made his stupid grin go wider.

"Ezio, must you egg her on? You will hardly sway her that way," Federico laughed, to which his brother shrugged.

"What? Nothing else seems to be working, and it is fun! Personally, I think I am making a break through—she talks to me more often!"

She sighed with exasperation, "That's because you bug me more often, so _of course_ I'm going to be verbally smacking you down just as much. The only problem is that you keep coming back for more. I swear you like it!"

"Well, a slap to his face has yet to deter him," his older brother hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"The slap just means they are interested! They want to be chased!" Ezio snickered, causing Catherine to groan and rub the bridge of her nose.

"Federico, what the _hell_ have you all been teaching him about women? The only reason they must sleep with him is because they somehow find that baby face attractive, right?"

He shrugged, "I suppose so. Although, it is as I have mentioned before—he can be charming once he is done playing the fool."

"That's just part of the charm!" the younger brother laughed and looked to the redhead.

Catherine up finger quotes, "'Charm'."

"Oh, come now—I have seen you smiling sometimes. I even made you laugh once! A woman only does that if she likes the man!"

"Oh no—_did_ you smile and laugh at him?" Federico asked, trying so hard not to let a chuckle escape.

The redhead groaned, shoulders slumping, "Okay, like _once_, but it was because his attempt was really bad so it was funny! I do _not_ like you, Ezio, and don't you dare get that into your head that I do! I told you I'm not going to fall for your little tricks, and you have no charm! At most you're like—like a puppy!"

"A 'puppy'? I am not a dog!"

"Hmm… No, I can see it actually. You are just so cute, baby brother."

The younger Auditore glared, "Federico! Do not encourage her! She's already mean enough as it is!"

"You could always stop trying to court her then."

"When I have ever been one to quit?" Ezio smirked.

"Uh, yeah, guys? Hellooo? I'm kind of right here. You don't have to talk as if I'm not," Catherine snorted, arms folded over her chest. She looked to Federico. "You: don't you encourage him, either. And you, little puppy, should listen to your owner and stop."

"'Owner'?"

"He's your brother—he looks after you. Like an owner."

"I like it," the brother grinned, while his "puppy" pouted.

"I am not a dog!" Ezio huffed, but his two companions just continued to smile, obviously not going to change their minds. His pout returned as he threw up his hands in the air, spun on his heel, and grumbled some obscenities under his breath before heading to the edge and slipping over. Catherine's smile grew, pleased with herself. It was always a good day when she could get back at him.

"As much as I love to tease my baby brother… I do not suppose you _could_ be a little less harsh? He may actually grow to dislike you otherwise," Federico hummed once Ezio stated down to the ground. "Unless, that is what you want?"

The redhead flushed, "Uh—oh, well, no. I don't want him to hate me. I mean, I'm just having fun, really, and I don't _really_ dislike his flirting, but... I don't know—I just say what comes to my head and we generally have fun with it. It _is_ pretty much just a game now. I think. Sort of. Or, well, we have these little 'fights' every so often, and it's essentially a normal thing? I don't think he takes it seriously anymore. It's only been a week, but we kind of have a routine? Ugh, anyways. He gets plenty of other ladies to satisfy him. If anything, I'm just the one he tests out his bad lines on."

"I see," the older brother chuckled, shaking his head a bit. Catherine gave him a look, to which he gave one back as if to ask "what?". She just sighed with a shrug.

"I just don't get why he insisted on doing all this flirting in the first place or at least continuing with it."

"He enjoys flirting with beautiful women."

"'Rico, come on—I know I'm plain looking _and_ I'm not much of a lady. Sure, I'm kind of 'exotic' being a freckled, slightly pale-skin ginger, but still. You guys tell every woman that they're beautiful."

"That is because every woman _is_ beautiful."

She raised a brow, "The lady expert indeed. Although, _you've _never flirted with me. Not like he does, anyways. You're more… friendly about it."

He laughed, "I assure you it is not because you do not possess beauty. You are simply…"

"Not your type—your 'kind' of woman?"

"Hmm… yes, I suppose that is a good way to put it. I do not mean to offend, of course."

Catherine waved her hand, grinning, "Not offended at all. Besides, I get enough of it with Ezio. It's nice having you to talk normally to. And I guess it _is _nice being called beautiful, even if it's an exaggeration to butter me up."

"_Hey!_"

Both blinked in surprise and moved towards the edge at the sound of the voice. A quick look showed them Ezio, annoyance full in his features, and his hands held indignantly on his hips. They had practically forgotten he was down there, no doubt having been stewing over his little "bashing" earlier.

"Are you coming down or am I going to eat sweet bread alone?" he shouted again, gesturing with his arm.

"Calm yourself, Ezio, we will be down in a moment!" Federico chuckled, but his younger brother just rolled his eyes and turned around to look at whatever else might be down there while he waited.

"Impatient little boy isn't he?" the redhead mused wryly.

"You are just now noticing?" the older Auditore snickered as he hopped over the edge and started making his way down.

"Oh, no, I figured that out the first day out here. I just still find it funny," she laughed back as she waited until he was a good ways along and then followed after. The younger brother was still huffy even when they joined him, and he did a good job of keeping it up for a while. However, he ultimately returned to his usual, cheerful self with a grin plastered from ear to ear. It helped they were back out in the crowd; he always seemed to thrive in one—especially when women were involved.

"And there he goes," Catherine hummed, watching the young man saunter off towards a pair of women—courtesans. At least, that's what she assumed by their unusually scanty clothing compared to the normal, everyday gowns of Renaissance ladies. She had a feeling he wasn't a stranger, but paid no mind as she followed Federico.

"No doubt to see if he can get a night free. He has done it before, actually," the young man replied, and the redhead snorted.

"I bet he has. Well, whatever, more sweet bread for us, right? And I can treat us this time," she grinned, patting the small leather pouch on her hip. Giovanni had agreed to her request some days ago, and now allowed her a small allowance for their outings to purchase small things like their sweet bread or art supplies. Otherwise, she was provided everything else. He hadn't told her she needed to do any work, which was a little frustrating. She felt she owed him something because of it. She just hoped working hard at being both a lady and her training would be enough.

"You are too kind, my lady."

She adjusted her cap, "I'm no lady today—and it's 'Cat or Catherine."

"Not 'kitty-cat', though, right?" he snickered as they neared the bakery, fresh scents of bread filling their noses. She smacked his arm lightly.

"Definitely not. Now just get the goods, and I'll pay," she snorted, and let him pick it out. Once bought, they made their way through the open area.

Not so many people were out, although it was a bit later in the day than usual. There was still enough for chatter to mesh together in a dull drone while they retrieved the younger Auditore from the courtesans' charming clutches to join them on the bench in front of the fountain. There they divvied up the bread and ate in silence for a little while, but it wasn't long before the idle talk started. It was all part of the routine, really; they would practice, get sweet bread, and talk through the last hour or so they had before returning home. It was generally simple things; mostly about sights around their home or hers. She'd gotten pretty good at making things up now, and the boys never seemed to doubt her, which was nice. Otherwise, the rest of their time was filled in with Ezio trying to flirt and tease, Catherine making sharp retorts or embarrassing sputters of words, and Federico having the time of his life laughing at them both. It was a good thing they had, and she was glad for it every day.

Unfortunately, Catherine had a feeling today wouldn't go quite as planned when Federico slowed in his laughter. It wasn't entirely noticeable at first. Ezio kept on snickering and looking around, and the redhead wouldn't have realized it if she hadn't felt him stiffen and sit up slightly. She looked to him, mostly confused, but a little concerned, and noticed his eyes flash. It was for a split moment, and it wasn't so much a flash but his irises just seemed to grow brighter. She had seen Giovanni do it, and now his son. What was it?

There was a small pulse in the back of her head and a warmth in her pocket as she murmured softly, "Eagle Vision…"

"What?" Federico asked, face turned sharply towards her, gaze intense. "How did you… no, of course… I see. I had suspected... but—no. Now's not the time. Ezio! There's trouble."

The younger brother's grin fell as perked up, "Where? Vieri?"

His eyes flashed, too, and Catherine realized they both had it. She couldn't help wondering if Claudia and Petruccio did as well if it was so strong in the two eldest children. She also knew her suspicions were confirmed—Federico hadn't been sure about her being an "Assassin", or, rather, her "father" being one. She inwardly grimaced, hoping Giovanni might not be mad. She never meant to let those kinds of things slip. She could not fret over it now, though; there was more present trouble.

"Maybe. I saw his goons. You see them, too?" the older brother inquired as he grasped Catherine's arm to get her up. Like last time, she did not resist. This Vieri was supposed to be a _lot _of trouble.

"Yes. I see them. It's only two and no more. We can leave before they notice us," Ezio replied, already starting to move. "Should we head to the roofs—just in case?"

"Not if we don't need to. Let us… shit. There are more. Move—this way," Federico snarled as he saw dark-clothed men appear ahead of them. Catherine managed to see of the goons point at them. They knew who they were and that they were here. They needed to get out of here, and both brothers did just that. She was released then so they could start jogging, and she did not hesitate to keep up. If it had just been the first two she wouldn't be so worried, but now there were four and she didn't like those odds. The boys obviously knew that, too, and took her down into an alley. No doubt they'd be after a secluded spot to climb—a place to avoid too much attention.

That, however, was put to a grinding halt. In fact, the redhead practically ran into Federico's back, stumbling to the side and keeping her balance thanks to Ezio grabbing her arm. She saw the reason why as soon a she was steady: a man in dark greens with dark hair, pale skin, and a permanent snarky smirk on his face—like he was a spoiled brat who was going to get his way. She knew at once it was Vieri and wanted to punch him in the face. She rarely got that kind of feeling about people, but with this man it was an instant, intense desire.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Two Auditore's—and what's this? A new friend?" Vieri spoke, his voice dripping with his hubris. It didn't help that he had yet another two goons with him, and from the way they'd run the other four emerged. They were outnumbered seven to three, and she wasn't sure how much she counted. Oh, she had skills in wrestling, but she'd never actually _fought_ someone before. Unfortunately, it seemed like she was going to get her chance.

"Back so soon for another beating, Vieri?" Ezio snorted, turning to face the men behind them. "Was two not enough? You need three?"

"Oh, I do not think you will be winning this time," the young man chuckled, pulling a knife from his belt and twisting it this way and that in the waning sunlight. A vicious, sinister smile appeared on his face. "In fact, I intend to return it tenfold. I suggest you make this easier and surrender. I may just cut a little less—just enough to disgust the ladies."

"Is this guy for real?" Catherine hissed, and both boys moved a bit closer.

"Yes. Keep between us. We can handle them," Federico hissed back just as Vieri pointed his blade at them.

"Have at it, boys. Show these Auditore dogs and their filthy pet what happens when they mess with the Pazzi."

The men converged, but before Catherine could curse, the younger brother made his move. He charged forward suddenly, slamming his fist into the nearest man's face. He retreated back closer to them right after, though, and had his arms up, ready to defend as one of Vieri's goons rushed back at him. He blocked the swing of the arm, wrapping his around the limb to trap the man, and then proceeded to punch as hard as he could into his opponent's gut until the effort forced the man from his grip.

Behind him, Federico urged the redhead to stay close as he contended with the two men in front. He eyed them carefully, and when the one of the right came first, he ducked below the strike, and then shoved him away, causing the man to tumble and roll. The goon on the left chose to charge at that moment, but the older Auditore was ready, stopping the fist with his forearm and smashing his own clenched fingers into the man's nose. His opponent yelped in pain, blood pouring down his face. Beyond them, Vieri snarled with annoyance.

That was all Catherine saw of him, though, before she, too, came under attack. It was unexpected, sort of. She hadn't thought the men would attack a woman—sure, it was a fight, but she had thought they would have tried to capture her or something—but then she remembered how she looked. Her clothes were loose enough to hide her feminine form, and her hair was up and covered by a hat. No doubt the men thought she _was_ a boy—a "filthy pet" of the Auditore boys. As such, she found the last two of the men coming for her as Ezio was forced away by his attackers. A small spark of fear went through her; a shot of uncertainty. Yet instinct spread her legs just so and bent slightly for balance. She lifted her arms to defend and eyed them both. They came at slight angles, each on one side. How would they attack? Both at once? How to counter, though? What if it was one first then the other? Should she punch and then dodge or dodge then punch? What was the best course of action?

The goon on the right attacked first. He was a decent-sized brute—just a bit bigger than Ezio—but he was slower. It gave her the time she needed to react, swiping her arm against the inside of his and throwing it across his body where her other arm caught it. There, she yanked hard enough to send him stumbling forward. The second man attacked, attempting to charge her. She ducked low, using her shoulder to ram into his gut. She heard his grunt and quickly pushed with her legs while she wrapped her arms around his thighs—all to throw him to the ground. He make a sound of annoyance as it worked, and she released him as she hit to roll out of the way—just in case the other man was after her.

She guessed right. Just as she stood the man came swinging, and to make things worse her knee was throbbing slightly with pain again. However, she forced through and thrust her palm out to meet his face, but hit the chin instead. It did stun him, though, and wrestling instincts kicked in. Ignoring her knee's protests, she grabbed his right arm with her left, swung her right around his neck, twisted her hips completely around, and threw the man over her back. In a proper match she would have followed him down, but here she let him go free and hit the ground hard with a gasp. Catherine panted lightly, adrenaline pumping, and was somewhat pleased at her work. She heard other shouts and turned to face them—only to find a dagger to her throat, and the man known as Vieri staring at her with a distinct look of both intrigue and hate.

"Well, well, well—what is this? Not just a filthy pet but a _whore_? I did not think you Auditore's stooped so low, but then again, you have never had such high standards of women have you? Comes with being _dogs _I suppose. They rut anything that breathes," the man sneered, and Catherine glared right back. Damn. Her hat must have fallen off. Ezio and Federico, finished with their two men for the moment, turned, and cursed.

Ezio growled, "Release her, Vieri! Or we'll—!"

"Try anything and I cut her throat!" the weasel snarled, pushing the blade closer. His remaining four men were coming back around, and the bastard's confidence was growing. Indeed, he smirked, and looked to the two Auditores. "Now, either I start cutting up her pretty face or you get on your hands and knees and beg me not to. Beg like the dogs you are.

"How _dare_ you! Are you really so low you would harm a woman!?" Federico snapped, stepping forward, but stopped when Catherine inhaled sharply as she felt the sting of steel pressing closer to her flesh.

"She is but a whore," the man spat, though suddenly paused to look her up and down. "And I think I might wait on cutting her face—rather, I will start with her clothes..."

"_Vieri_!" Ezio howled, starting to come forward, but found himself restrained. He struggled, but the men had him.

The scum of a human being waggled a finger as he turned towards him, "Ah-ah. You and your brother have to beg, remember? Do so and I might not make you watch."

Enough was enough.

Impending cuts be damned, Catherine ignored the blade cutting slightly into her skin as she grabbed the man's wrist. He looked back at her in surprise just in time to watch her fist collide with his face. She swore she felt a crack, and her hand certainly hurt like hell, but it felt way better to see his nose burst in a shower of blood and the man fall onto his ass from the surprise. Federico didn't miss a beat as he struck the two nearest goons while Ezio freed himself from his restrainers. He kicked one in the knee, forcing a cry of agony from the man, and then slugged the other. Vieri scrambled up as the two boys joined Catherine, who picked up the piece of scum's dagger and pointed it at him.

"New deal—how about _you_ beg and I don't cut your fucking balls off and shove them up your ass!" she snarled, all too ready to make good on the threat.

"Expect us to not be as kind," Ezio added, fists clenched so tight they were practically white. Federico was much the same, glare icy hot.

"I suggest you leave, Vieri, and you would do well to never cross us again."

The swine looked ready to argue, but then he realized his numbers had been cut in half and he was still bleeding and in pain. A flicker of fear appeared in his features, and a garbled curse came from his mouth.

"Damn you, Auditore dogs!" he squealed like a stuck pig as he turned and ran. His remaining goons looked about, confused, but didn't take long for them to go squealing after. His other three men were unconscious or too dazed by the pain to go. Regardless, the fight was over. They had won. Sighing with relief, Catherine dropped the blade, and suddenly found her chin held gently. She almost reacted—her adrenaline was still going—but relaxed when she realized it was just Ezio. It was a little strange seeing concern in his eyes, but she supposed it was reasonable. He was worse off than her, though—there was blood on his lip and a bit trickling from his nose, and she could already see a welt forming on his brow.

"Are you alright, Catherine? He did not hurt you badly?" he asked, touching near the cut. She winced at the slight burn, but it wasn't bad. She touched at it herself and found only a bit of blood. It definitely did hurt as much as her knee, which was vehemently protesting having done all that fighting. She ignored it, though, as she pulled her chin free of his grip.

"Yeah, I'm fine... A bit surprised and still a little, uh, anxious from the fight, but I'm fine. Are _you_ okay? You both have bloody lips and noses. I almost feel like I didn't do enough," she chuckled, getting a small, brief grin from them both.

"You did plenty, my Lady—those men did not know what they were messing with," Federico told her, touching her shoulder warmly. "_Are_ you alright, though? You should never have been a part of this…"

"Honestly, I'm fine, Federico. I promise," she smiled back. "If anything, I'm a little sad it's over—I've always wanted to get into a fight!"

The two young men laughed lightly, and she soon joined them, but the forced nature of it was obvious. It was hard to be happy right now, even if they had won, but it was worth it to pretend. Catherine knew all too well this wasn't good. No doubt Giovanni and Maria would be furious, most importantly the former. She groaned inwardly, just imagining what he might do to punish her. There would be no avoiding it, either. They couldn't hide the marks of their scuffle, and so the redhead sighed as she walked over to where her hat had been abandoned, picked it up, and set it back over her hair.

"Well, now that the son of bitch is taken care of, I guess we should head home, yeah? How long until he tries again, you think?" she inquired, glancing to them both.

"Not for a while. He will have to nurse that nose of his after the hit you gave him," Ezio smirked, nudging her playfully. She laughed, though winced as she remembered how much the blow hurt and realized her hand was almost as sore as her knee right now.

"Good, because that actually hurt like hell. I'm not sure I want to punch anymore people."

Federico snickered, "Well, with luck Vieri will stay far away. He did just have his ass beaten by a woman."

"Oh, but I'm a _whore_ apparently," she snorted.

"And _he_ is a damn fool," the younger brother snorted with her.

"No doubt of that… but we should see about returning home now. We will need to call on the family doctor to tend to the wounds… and do not worry, baby brother, I will speak to Father of this. You only need to avoid Mother," the elder grinned, ruffing up Ezio's hair. "Come. Let us climb. We might yet beat the news home then."

"Sounds good to me. I'm tired, to be honest. I'm not even sure I'll make it to dinner," the redhead yawned, rubbing the back of her head. She caught an odd look from Ezio, but let it be. She'd just fought three men and held her own by some miracle. She had a right to be tired.

"Just stay awake the rest of the way home—lest I have Ezio carry you," Federico teased.

"I'm awake!" Catherine replied quickly and trotted after him, though had to hide her wince. Her knee was hurting a bit less already, but it wasn't going to be as fun going back as it had getting here.

The younger brother rolled his eyes, "Why must you act like that is so terrible?"

"I know what you'll do, and I'm not giving you that chance."

"Oh, come now—I would be a gentleman!"

"Uh-huh."

"Federico, tell her!"

"This is your problem, Ezio! You have to convince her yourself!" the older brother laughed loudly as he got to the nearest wall and began to climb.

Ezio frowned, "Federico!"

"Good luck," Catherine smirked, look saying all that was needed—that he wouldn't. The young man pouted, and the red head just laughed along with Federico all the way to the top.

**-O-**

Once again there she was in Giovanni's office; the older man on one side, she on another. He was writing another letter, and lately she was beginning to think that was most of what his work was—the Assassin work, anyways, being that his banking involved him going to the bank. His other business, however, seemed to always be here, although she'd yet to see him do any real assassinating. Not that she doubted he could, but she thought perhaps he was retired or didn't do the killing bit anymore. Of course, she didn't dare say so—not that she thought he would slap her for it. Not anymore, anyways. No, he seemed to have come to "accept" her presence and had tolerated any blunders thus far.

She mentally grimaced as she recalled the silent look he'd given her and the brothers when they arrived home. It was a spot of bad luck that they happened to arrive back just as their father was leaving his "business" room and saw their sorry state. There had been a flash of anger before it was smothered into something tamer. However, though he appeared calm, the previous emotion was still there beneath the surface and it was obvious they would be getting some kind of lashing later. Before that, though, he bade them to go see Annetta, who ended up being the one to tend to their wounds, as their injuries were fairly minor despite appearances. She could do nothing for the bruises, so excuses had to be made at dinner, although Maria was all too aware of what must have happened. She made no comment. Afterwards they had gone their separate ways, except for Federico who went to speak with his father. Catherine had thought Maria would stop her, but she was left unmolested until just minutes ago when the older brother had come to get her.

He had made it seem like things were alright, but she still wasn't sure as she sat there, watching Giovanni move the pen and hearing the quill scratch across the thick parchment. She briefly wondered if it was some correspondence with whoever was in charge of the place she was to go to, but like she had through the last few, eternal minutes, she kept her mouth shut. It seemed the best option, anyways, and he never kept her waiting too long. Just enough to get her paranoia and anxiety high—almost like it was some cruel game. Sure, it was really all in her head, but there it was.

And, just like always, he let out a deep breath of air as he set his pen down on the unfinished letter, leaned back, and finally looked at her. It was practically routine, and she'd only been in here maybe four times now.

"How are you faring? I heard you had quite the adventure today," he began, and she touched at her neck, the flesh a little tender still, but already scabbing. She'd also bruised her cheek and her shoulder throbbed a little thanks to her tackling and throwing maneuvers, and then her knee was still uneasy if she touched at it, but no doctor in this time could really help that. She would have killed for some Naproxen, though.

"Sore, but alright. We didn't mean to fight Vieri—really, we didn't. He cornered us."

"So Federico told me, and I am not surprised. The boy is as stubborn and vicious as his father," Giovanni sighed, and Catherine couldn't help thinking the family rivalry went a bit deeper than the boys. Who was Vieri's father again? What did their family do? Unfortunately, while the Clock did warm—she glanced down in surprise because it had been silent for so long—she received no answer as the older man watched her in that particular way of his; calculating and thoughtful; all the gears turning. "Federico also informed me that you fought admirably for one who has not fought before. He said you had skills he did not recognize for what little he saw."

She blinked, pausing, "Um... Yes. Sort of? I was just using my wrestling skills. I, ah… I think I told you—back when I first got here. I did wrestling as a sport like, uh, the Greeks did, but not completely the same. The punch, uh, was just instinct, though. Vieri deserved it."

"Certainly," the older man chuckled before he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I had not considered it… but if you already possess the skills, perhaps it would do well to have Federico refine them. Free running is well enough, but if you can _defend_ yourself… that will prove even more useful. Is 'wrestling' the only skill you have, and what all did you learn in it?"

"Uh," Catherine began, her brain still working to keep up with him. It just seemed so _unfathomable_ that he was interested in her physical skills—besides the parkour, anyways. Somehow, she managed to speak, though, rubbing the back of her head to show off her awkwardness, "That is… well, I learned how to throw a person over my shoulders in various ways or trip them or put them in a head lock or use my legs to pin then or something… and, ah, I did a lot of strength training with weights and lots of jogging for endurance and then I would compete against other girls or practice with guys. Generally matches only went a minute or so or less, but some went the full six. Before that I did other sports, though."

"Fascinating! Women in your time… they are allowed to do all this? Truly?" he inquired, laughing a little, which caused more emotions to come forth—mostly confusion.

"Well, ah, yes. Women do all kinds of sports—some that haven't been invented yet. Most actually have both men and women leagues and there are those with both men and women playing together. Some of those leagues are professional, too."

"And you did many of these sports?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I did, uh—oh, well, some I shouldn't maybe say, but, ah, in total I did about six? Or so. Again, wrestling, and then there's swimming. I did, um… I threw discus and shot put—like the Greeks did. And then—oh! I did horseback riding for a few years."

"Incredible… to think even women are allowed such freedoms… it is a good sign. Hmm, but I see you are concerned," Giovanni hummed, and the redhead suddenly realized she _was_ a little concerned. Had she said too much? The older man raised a hand. "Do not be worried. I am of firm belief that the era from which you come is too far for my actions to make much of a difference, and even now I have sworn myself to not utter a word of this. I merely take it as a… curiosity and a means of comfort—knowing that the world will become a place of freedom for all one day."

"Well, it's certainly freer than in this time."

"Ah… I see the future is still not all we hope it will be."

"Let's just say that… well, not everyone is as up to date on 'freedom' as others, but it _is_ better. Much better. A _lot_ of things are going to change and happen in the coming hundred years."

"I hope my sons and their own sons will be there to witness it, then," Giovanni mused with a warm smile. It lasted for a few moments—long enough for Catherine's mind to wander and wonder; to consider _why_ the man did what he did and how he was how he was. She thought of what the Assassins were and why they existed. The Clock had given her hints; feelings; notions. Nothing concrete except that they were _good_ and that the Templars were _bad_, but now that she thought on what she had learned from the man and his family, she was beginning to see the other shades. The Assassins were more than just _good_—they fought for equality. Freedom. The Templars… well, she could only assume they wanted the opposite. She didn't know about them well enough to say for sure, though. Of course, there were always darker and lighter colors to everything.

"Um… so… am... am I in trouble?" she asked after the silence between them had grown unusually long. Giovanni perked up, for once caught unfocused, and leaned forward.

"Not exactly, no. I dislike my sons engaging in such quarrels, and certainly that dislike extends to you, but this has been a learning experience and an informative one. However, I will ask you remain at the _Palazzo _for a few days—if only to heal and keep your head low. Now… As I mentioned, I feel it would do well to have Federico give you more private lessons in regards to fighting. My other children will understand romping about the city, but to learn to fight is very different. It will no doubt need to done before they break fast, away from prying eyes, and not always. Would you be willing?"

Oh hell yes she would. Call her a dork, but she'd always wanted to learn how to fight—to _really_ fight, and not just pin or subdue a person, and here was Giovanni literally throwing her the bone with all the meat still on it. Not to mention, if she was learning to fight then maybe he could eventually be persuaded to let her stay and help him and then she could go home! Of course, she had to keep calm on the outside. It wouldn't do well to make him think she was trying to still follow up on the idea. He wouldn't allow it then. So, instead of jumping up and shouting an excited "yes", she simply nodded.

"If you think it's best. As always, I'll do what I can. I know I've messed up a few times, or almost did, but I promise I am trying."

"So you have proven thus far, and you have my thanks. I would rather not have us become enemies."

She chuckled a bit nervously, "I think that's _my_ line, actually."

He chuckled back, "Perhaps… oh, I almost forgot—Federico also mentioned you know about Eagle Vision. He had already suspected you were part of the Assassins, and so I have told him as I told Maria: your father was an Assassin and you were sent here for protection. He believes he is merely helping you train. No more, no less. However, while Federico knows of what the Assassins are and do, Ezio, Claudia, and Petruccio do not, and I would have it remain that way until I believe they are ready. Is that understood?"

"Of course," she relied at once, nodding fervently. Giovanni made a sound of approval as he sat back, thinking once more; no doubt for whether there was any other matter to consider. His gaze ghosted over the papers on his desk, pausing on one in particular. He touched at it, eyes moving in such a way that she knew he was reading some words. She couldn't make out what was on the paper, and it looked terribly old—far more so than the other papers. She saw a confliction, of sorts, in the older man's face as he thought, and, after a pregnant pause, he looked back to her.

"Catherine… what _do_ you know of the Assassins and the Templars? I never did ask."

She didn't dare believe it was so simple a question as she answered, "Um… not much, to be honest—just what the Clock showed me. Like you being an Assassin and that the Templars are bad… actually, well… Truthfully, I didn't even _know_ the Assassins and Templars were still around or had this secret war going on at all. I thought the only assassins were the _Hashashin_ from way back when and the Knights Templar during the Crusades, but both just sort of faded away for one reason or another and that was it. But this—finding out about _you_… it just… I can't help but wonder if they exist in my time, too; if the war is _still_ going on. In fact, I'm almost positive they are now, although I wouldn't know who they could be."

"I suspect it would be like that. We have long since faded from the light of society. Indeed, both sides work from the shadows if we can. So it does not surprise me… yet… are you certain? The Clock has mentioned nothing more? Nothing about… _other_ things like it?"

"No, nothing. It's been… quiet. It really only occasionally that it gives me information, but even then it's sporadic, although it has been translating languages for me, which has been convenient… er… was there… something specific you wanted?" Catherine replied, making her inquiry after she noticed the man frowning. He shook his head as he stood up.

"Ah, no. No, I was just… thinking. A curiosity, but it is no matter," he hummed, shuffling the paper he'd read under others. The redhead frowned, wondering what he had meant. She felt the Clock warm in her pocket, but no information came to mind. Yet, it only grew warm when it was something important. So what had he wanted? Whatever it was would remain a mystery, however, as he walked around the deck to stand near her, brow raised. "You mentioned the Clock translated languages?"

She stood up, nodding, "Um, yeah. I don't know Italian, but I can speak it and understand it—you said my Italian was pretty good, right? But I've never learned Italian at all. I can also read it just fine. It's just… it's automatic. It just translates for me somehow."

"So… it pulls you through time… _and_ it translates languages?" he rumbled, obviously puzzled. She knew the feeling.

"Apparently. I swear I have no idea what it is sometimes," she sighed, shaking her head. The older man gave her a small smile before he paused again. He had been thinking quite a lot this meeting, and she only wished he would tell her—then she might be able to help. She knew better than to hope too much, though. He didn't trust her. At least, not to that extent, and she didn't blame him.

"Hmm… Actually… Catherine… Can you read this?" he inquired as he pushed papers aside to bring the one he'd looked at for a long while to her. She raised her own brow but tuned her eyes to it anyways. She could read it alright, but it was gibberish.

"I can make out the words, but they're all just… a mess. It looks all random."

"I see… yes, it has been difficult to make out… ah, but do not worry. I was simply curious if your Clock could read Arabic or not. Fascinating, truly. But I have kept you too long now. I suspect you must be tired after a long day," he smiled warmly as he returned the paper to his desk and turned her towards the door. No doubt the parchment had to do with his previous question. She was even more curious now—almost dangerously so, but didn't dare ask. It wasn't her place.

"Ah, yeah, I can't deny that. I'm definitely exhausted. It's bad enough things are so different here," she rumbled, and, of course, yawned now that she was reminded how she was tried.

"I am afraid there is not much that can be done for that."

"No, there's not. Don't worry, though, I'll just… manage. Somehow. I always have, always will," she smiled back, but it was forced and tired.

"I am sure you will. Do not push yourself beyond your limits, though, Catherine. You will do no one—especially yourself—any good. Now go. Rest now. You will need to recover your strength tomorrow."

"Right. Thank-you, Giovanni, as always. I'm know I'm not the easiest person you've probably ever had to deal with," she chuckled as she opened the door, the courtyard dark except for the dim light of torches.

"Oh, believe me—I have dealt with far worse," the older man hummed back with a wry grin. Catherine laughed a bit, sparing him a final, grateful look before stepping outside and shutting the door behind her.

* * *

**06 **\- End

* * *

**TMWolf: **_If ya'll are curious... those are legit wrestling moves Catherine uses-I've used them myself. Well, sort of. The Head And Arm-the one throwing over her back-I never got to really do, but that's the _best _way to do that move. The other one is, uh... basically an arm swipe thing. I forgot the exact name *shame on me* but you just basically do wax on/wax off and pull the arm so you can grab your opponent from behind. In this case, she just let him keep going. Either way works xD Anyways, that's your wrestling lesson for the day ;)_

_So. Maybe kind of cliche, buuut-yeah. Vieri gettin' his booty whooped. Catherine got a moment to shine, yay! Not without their share of injuries, but they did a good job ;) Don't worry; this won't be a common thing. It's kind of a one off, but important anyways. Kinda. Okay, no it is. Gotta let 'Cat train a bit~ :P Just a bit, though. Again, she is **NOT**_ _being trained to be an Assassin! She is merely being trained to defend herself, and it's not too much; just basic fighting stuff. Anyways, fun time ahead._

_Oh, and kudos to anyone who can guess was Giovanni was showing her ;) I got interwebs cookies for you if you get it! :'D Whether or not is important is up for you to speculate ;P_

_Anyways... I think that's about all that needs to be said this chapter, besides: oh look. So much set up. Set up everywhere. Yess... Now, ah... next chapter... oooh you guys will like next one! We meet another character~~ _


	8. A Small Measure of Peace

**TMWolf**_: Woo! Time for chapter seven, guys! Can you believe we're almost to seven? Oh, so since I write ahead of the present chapter, I can tell you guys right now that Arc I is going to come to a close at about ch 12 or 13, and then we'll get into the good stuff! Unfortunately, that means the fun times in Florence and the Auditore's will come to the end ;( But until then, you have a few more chapters, and some of the best ones are yet to come! :) Oh, yes, I plenty of things still planned until Act I is over! So stay tuned and bear with me, ha ha. _

_As always, how the Auditore family and other characters act is based off canon and my own interpretations :)_

_For my lovely guest reviews, and a big thanks to all those that review! You guys always make my day and I love hearing your thoughts!_

_Good 'ol Dobby: Ha ha, yeah, sometimes fanfic is tricky like that ;P And I try and update on a weekly basis so you can expect an update most every weekend unless I say otherwise! :) Unfortunately... Vieri won't show up much more than that. Maybe just some mentions. He's learned his lesson... for now ;)_

_So this chapter's song is another instrumental from the Last Samurai movie - A Small Measure of Peace. It's a great piano peace and the movie is really good, too!_

_Lastly... get ready guys. One of our favorite characters will be showing up this chapter :D_

_If you see any blaring canon/writing mistakes do let me know!_

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**07 **– A Small Measure of Peace

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**July 16, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

"What are you drawing now?"

Catherine paused in her chalk sketch to look at Petruccio, the young boy practically glued to her right side. He had paper and chalk in his lap, too, working on his own piece of art. He'd never drawn before, so mostly he was making poor attempts at a face or an object in the room, but they were adorable in their own way. It was also an activity he could do that didn't strain his health, and it pleased his mother—the woman was actually in the room with them, sowing silently at her table. She glanced up every now and then, smiling at them or at her other sons, who were playing at chess, and at Claudia, too, who sat in the chair across from the redhead and the youngest Auditore. The only missing member, unfortunately, couldn't join them today—off on business apparently.

"Well, mostly I've been doodling, but I thought I might try at drawing your sister—she's sitting in a good pose," Catherine chuckled, tilting the outline of Claudia's face she'd made so Petruccio could see. The subject of her piece looked up, surprised.

"You are drawing _me_?" she gasped and stood up so she could charge over. "Let me see! You better not be doing so poorly!"

The redhead rolled her eyes playfully, showing her the parchment, "I've only just started, Claudia. There's not much to see. I won't draw you if you don't want me to. I could draw Maria or one of the boys."

"I think not—the last time you did you drew a ridiculous nose on my face!" Ezio barked, though he didn't look their way; too focused on the chess game with his brother, who snickered.

"I thought it suited you perfectly, baby brother," he hummed as he moved his piece and then smirked. "Also: check mate."

"Wha—oh! Come on, Federico!" the young man groaned, slumping dramatically for a few moments before he pouted and waved at his opponent. "Let us go again. I will beat you this time!"

Catherine grinned at their antics before looking to Claudia again, who had been keeping her eye on the parchment, biting her lip a little. She was probably taking account of the doodles she'd made on the edges—fun little drawings of random characters of her own making or creatures she'd thought up, or some were of her dogs. No doubt the young woman worried she might draw her the same.

"You should let her draw you! She is very good! Did I not show you the one she did of me?" Petruccio piped up, smiling brightly. He held up his own parchment, "She is even teaching me! Oh! I could draw you if you would like!"

His sister huffed, "I _suppose_ Catherine may draw me, but do so properly! I will not be made fun of with a picture!"

"I won't—I promise. Really. Now, go sit back down how you were, and I'll see how far I get," the redhead hummed teasingly, to which the other girl rolled her eyes, but ultimately did as told. She returned to her previous pose, settled back properly against her chair with book in hand, and head held high. When asked if it was right, Catherine nodded and got back to her sketch.

Normally, she would use pencil for drawing on paper, and be able to erase as much as she liked, or she would do it on her laptop, but she had neither of those things. Maria and Giovanni had been kind enough to give her material to draw, but it was on old, thicker paper and she had chalks or ink and quills for her medium. She hadn't tried the ink yet, but she did know how to use chalk—it was like charcoal, and she'd always liked that, although she was much better with a pencil. She would make do with what she had, although it was also very messy. Thankfully, she'd gotten her own towel set, which she kept on her lap so the dark smudges only ever strayed to her pants. Thus far neither parent had come to regret allowing it, and she dared to say Maria was _pleased_—if only because art was something a lady could learn and she was actually decent at it compared to everything else.

"Alright, just hold still," Catherine mused as she started to work on the eyes first, making thin, dark lines and then shading in for the eyelids. She had white chalk, too, but she would add that later for highlights.

"I still do not see how you know to do that—or how you use your hands for it so well," Petruccio sighed as he watched her, his own sheet abandoned.

"It takes years of practice until it becomes instinct—like sword fighting for you. I just… sort of know how to do it now. I know just the right pressure and how to smudge it. Don't worry; you'll get it one day if you keep at it. Or you could always write stories. You've got some pretty good ones, too."

He grinned, but shook his head, "Oh, but yours are much, _much_ better! They are always full of magic and adventure! I could never think up such great things."

"Well, you never will if you think like that. You have to be confident and try as hard as you can. Just don't try TOO hard like your brother Ezio. When that happens you just end up falling on your face and making a fool of yourself."

"I heard that!"

"Ezio, pay attention to your game, or you will never beat your brother," Maria mused, and the young man shrunk down as if he'd been given a good smack. That often seemed the case when his mother spoke to him. At least, that's what Catherine had noticed. He _was_ a troublemaker, though.

"Are you almost done?" Claudia spoke up, glancing at her, and she shook her head.

"Well, I'm almost done with the basic part. Your eyes are essentially done, anyways. Working on the rest of your face," Catherine replied, and then chuckled when the young woman sighed with exasperation. "Art takes time, Claudia. Just be patient."

An indignant scoff was her reply, and the redhead was sure it was only the prospect of being drawn that kept the woman from insulting her in some way. Oh, things might have been a _bit_ better between her and the Auditore's daughter, but the young woman still had a bit of a cold shoulder for her. Most of her questions were small jabs or Claudia constantly snubbed her; nose raised like she was her better. She rarely spoke to her, either, unless need be. Catherine didn't really mind all that much since she didn't honestly have anything to say to Claudia, but she did know it wasn't exactly good that she and the young woman didn't get along. Unfortunately, getting onto the Auditore's good side was a difficult thing. Petruccio had assured her it would get better in time, but she had forgotten to ask how much time that would be.

So she kept on drawing, mostly in silence, but occasional speaking if Petruccio asked her a question—she always loved answering and helping him have fun—or making some retort at Ezio as he lost game after game. Beyond them, Maria would smile and laugh, as happy as a mother could be to see her children so at ease. Every so often servants came and went, but otherwise it was just them. It had been this way for the past few days once Catherine had finished her training, and it was a nice reprieve—especially since she had begun her combat training with Federico now that her wounds had healed. Normally her bruises and injuries would last much longer, but they had faded within a few days. As such, she and the elder Auditore had begun to go to a secluded spot in the mornings to start working on her battle skills. It had gone alright, but it was exhausting once the free running was added on, but she didn't dare show her fatigue. Besides, it _was_ fun, but she was definitely glad for this time to relax after dinner. Just reading or drawing or playing or talking or relaxing. It was nice. It gave her time to think and clear her head.

"Are you done yet?" Claudia huffed, puffing her cheeks out with annoyance. Beyond her, Ezio groaned, having lost yet again. Federico, as always, smirked, and drank almost a little arrogantly from his glass of wine. Petruccio giggled at their antics while he admired his own work after going back to it, attempting a dog this time. Maria glanced up from her sewing briefly, enjoying it all. Catherine chuckled and glanced down at her paper.

"Not completely, but you can come look. I can fill in the other details later," she replied, and the young woman moved almost a little _too_ quickly to her side. She took the parchment at once, and appeared ready to snap at her as if the redhead had done some great wrong, but in the end she couldn't. In fact, her annoyed look faltered and faded and she almost showed a smile.

"You _did_ do it properly!" she beamed, and Petruccio hopped up to come see.

He smiled as well, "It is your best yet, Catherine!"

The red head laughed lightly, "So far, yes. I still need to get used to the medium. It's been far too long."

"Wait—she did not draw you with a big nose or brow or ears!?" Ezio exclaimed, standing up—no doubt just to get away from his many losses. He made a face as he grabbed the drawing and showed it at her. "This is so unfair! You drew Claudia just as she was!"

"But you _do_ have a big nose, Ezio," Catherine smirked, causing the young man to pout.

"My nose is a normal size! You drew it far too large!"

"Oh, calm down, baby brother. She only did it because I asked her to," Federico laughed as he joined them, clapping the younger brother on the shoulder and taking the parchment. He smiled and looked to the redhead. "It is most excellent, Catherine, you should not think so little of your skills!"

She flushed, grinning a little dumbly, "I'm just being realistic! I'm hardly a master—I don't even qualify as an expert!"

"Federico, bring me the work," Maria mused, and the young man brought it over at once. The redhead continued to grin stupidly, both embarrassed but thrilled, too. She knew she wasn't mediocre or a beginner at art, but she knew she wasn't the best either—especially not when she knew what masterpieces were being made now. Still, she couldn't help but feel giddy when complimented. Her joy only grew when the older woman examined the piece carefully and then nodded with a smile. "You have talent, my dear. In fact… I think it is time you met the friend I spoke of—tomorrow, of course. You return to my care, so it works out quite well."

"Of course. I look forward to meeting them," Catherine nodded, and meant to ask for her drawing back, but the family had converged around their mother. There, Claudia beamed about how it showed how beautiful she was—something about how even paper could not hide her inner grace or what not. Her older brothers, of course, lived to tease her, starting a small fight where she shoved and tried to win the drawing back. All the while Petruccio and their mother enjoyed the show in their own way. It was a grand thing, and Catherine happily watched it.

And yet, she could not stop the knot growing within her belly.

She kept her smile, but she would have been lying if she said she was alright. Although, she couldn't really say why, or, rather, she could, but it was a reason she wasn't sure she wanted to say and maybe didn't fully understand herself. Or maybe she did. It was a strange thing, really. She was happy to see them all together, so joyful and full of love. She was happy to be able be a part of it and be with them, but she could not help thinking—was she? Was she really a part of it? _Could _she be? She was a stranger, after all. Oh, they had welcomed her and taken care of her, and she'd gotten along with them well enough for the last ten days, but this was not her home. This was not her family. She did not belong here, and not in just one way.

A sigh escaped her as she reached for another parchment. There was no point in continuing to focus on the feeling. There was nothing to be done, and she would rather lose herself into the world of her imagination, drawing whatever fleeting thought that came to mind. She glanced back up at the family, though, when she heard some particularly loud laughing, and managed another smile, though it, too, was forced. Ezio happened to catch her gaze then, and his own smile faltered for a moment. A flicker of fear for what he saw came over her, and so she looked away. She did not see his frown deepen some before he was pulled back into laughter by his older brother, and Catherine was left to start sketching some more. She let the numbing bliss sink in if only to forget for a little while.

**-O-**

The flicker of candlelight was dim in the darkened hall of the Auditore palace, but it was just enough to make out the words of the book in her lap. Her vision was a bit bleary, but not so much she couldn't read the words or know what they said. Her body was heavy and her head felt even more so, and yet they refused to completely fall away to the world of dreams. It was even more exhausting knowing she would have to be up in a matter of hours to go do things with Maria, and while that was less exhausting than her work with the boys, she could not muster the energy to feel even a little relieved. There was nothing she could do, though; her body refused her wishes and would only lament when it was pushed to its limit.

Sighing, Catherine rubbed at her eyes, only to pause mid-rub when she heard the creak of wood. She looked up to see a figure in the dark. After many nights, she knew exactly who it was and expected Ezio to make some cheeky comment as usual. He rarely missed a chance.

And yet silence pervaded between them. He remained quiet, his thoughts kept to himself, and she couldn't help but let her own wander. She believed she once knew the young man well, but he had surprised her quite a bit lately. This was yet another of those times.

"You should try and sleep," he spoke suddenly, his voice soft. She didn't know what to make of it, but then again, it was hard to think straight. She rubbed her eyes her second time, shut her book, and stood up, taking her candle with her.

"Yeah. 'Night," she replied, turning around to return to her room. This time she did not pause at her door to see if he was watching—she already knew he would be.

**-O-**

**July 17, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

It was a bit hotter than usual, or at least compared to the other days Catherine had been in Italy. Her dress didn't help, either. Of course, she was mostly just tired, so the heat only added to the misery as she tried to not yawn while she walked with Maria. At least she had her proper stride down—the older woman had yet to correct her the last few times she was with her—and her speech was better. Sort of. She occasionally slipped in her tired state, but her teacher was fairly forgiving today. Catherine suspected it was because she was so excited about having her meet her artist friend. Honestly, she wasn't all too sure why Maria insisted; she _was_ good at art, but certainly her work didn't compare to that of Renaissance painters. In fact, she often marveled at their skills and dreamed to be as good. She did know that the older woman had a deep love for the arts, though, so she supposed that was it.

"Come, Catherine, we are almost there," Maria sang as she glided through the streets, a glow about her. Catherine wished she could share in the excitement. She was just hoping she didn't make a fool of herself, glancing down at the pieces of parchment in her hands. She knew there weren't many common female artists in this era, although they _did_ exist. Then again, women nobles did apparently learn the arts because they could afford it, so maybe the older woman thought she might hone her talent? She didn't see why—she wouldn't be here much longer. She figured that was the case, anyways. Giovanni no doubt wanted her gone as soon as possible for safety reasons. That wasn't to say she wasn't grateful or happy the woman thought so highly of her, but it was a little odd and confusing.

Then again, when _wasn't_ she confused these days? She'd been lost the moment she got here, and just when she thought she might catch a break—boom. Confused again. It was a great cycle. Really, it was.

To make matters worse, she was exhausted, which meant she was getting irritated too easily. She was good at holding her tongue, though, so it wasn't a problem. She just hoped this friend was someone who could lighten the mood.

"Who is the artist, anyways? You have not said," she inquired, glancing around at the people around them. As always, she got a few looks. Maria told her it was because of her appearance. It wasn't impossible for someone to have pale skin or red hair or freckles or light eyes, but a combination of all four? It was almost unheard of in Italy from what she had gathered. Thus, the looks, which she should have been used to by now, kept coming.

"Hmm… I suppose it is not too surprising you have not heard of him; he is mostly only known in _Firenze _and _Italia _at the moment, but he will become very famous in _all _of Europe one day, I am certain of it," the woman smiled happily. Catherine raised a brow, but said no more as she was led around the corner towards a courtyard. They went right through it, though, and towards a house with a personal courtyard attached through an arch on the right. Maria went to the left of it, bringing her to the small enclave that served as a doorway. The door itself was made of a dark wood with a beautiful etching of a woman. It looked to be done by a master, and she wondered if the artist inside had done it. Despite its beauty, Maria did not hesitate to knock. She could hear a surprise sound from inside and something falling followed by disgruntled rumbles before the door was unlocked.

"Ah! Madame Maria!" a young, vibrant, blonde-haired man exclaimed once he saw them, happily embracing the woman and giving her a quick kiss on each cheek. His gaze turned to Catherine next, his smile never leaving his face. He was very cheerful sort, and it was incredibly infectious. The redhead couldn't help smiling back as he bowed his head. "And who is your lovely friend?"

"This is Catherine Wolfe," the older woman chuckled, and turned to the redhead. "And this is Leonardo da Vinci—my favorite and most talented artist."

"Come now, Madame, you are far too kind!" the man chuckled, obviously completely humbled.

Catherine had to take a double take.

Maria had to be kidding or have spoken wrong.

This man—this young, vibrant young man with poofy clothes, a silly hat, and little artistic tool on his hip—was _the_ Leonardo da Vinci? The greatest artist of pretty much all time? The uncontested genius of the ages? The man who would paint the Mona Lisa? The man who would invent creations far beyond his time? The man who was so loved that the King of France apparently held him at his bedside as he died?

This man was _that_ Leonardo da Vinci?

Good God, she might faint. Or, no, not faint—more like have an excitement attack or—or _something_. How could she not? This man was famous! Or going to be. Shit. She couldn't get excited or she might reveal something about the future. He didn't know how famous he was yet! She couldn't say anything at all or she could risk messing with anything. How could Maria bring her here? This was going to be torture now, and yet it was also so exciting and good lord she didn't know what to do with herself right now.

Thank God she knew how to hold her tongue and keep her damn mouth shut.

"Oh, Leonardo, you must forgive my interrupting your work, but I could not resist. You see, Catherine here partakes in the arts as well."

The man raised both brows, grinning, "You are an artist, too? That is fantastic! There are not many women who partake in the craft!"

"Ah, well, that is, I _do_ draw some," Catherine fumbled. How the hell was she supposed to reply to one of the greatest artists of all time? She silently cursed Maria, wondering how she could do this to her.

"Oh, nonsense. You have talent, my dear—show him."

"Wha—no, I couldn't—."

"Catherine, there is no need to be nervous. Leonardo is as benevolent as they come," the older woman pressed, and the man grinned with her.

"Please, do not be afraid to show me. It would be an honor to see the art of an aspiring young woman," the man chuckled, although she couldn't believe he actually meant that—he was just being polite for Maria, which did make him a nice guy. Still, her cheeks were flaring red as she handed over the parchments on which she'd drawn the portraits of Petruccio, Claudia, and Federico. Ezio's had remained at home, being that she _had_ made his nose extra big on purpose, and so it was just a fun joke. The others, though, she had actually put effort into it, and so watched Leonardo warily, twiddling her fingers behind her back to hide her anxiety, although she knew it was obvious.

"Indeed, you have a talent here, my Lady. Was your father an artist as well?"

Her flush deepened, "Ah—no. I, ah… may have learned… on my own? I-I mean, I took a _few_ lessons, but I already knew most of all what they had to teach of by then. The rest was, ah, on my, ah, own."

"Outstanding!" the man laughed, causing her to jerk in surprise. "To have learned this on your own, and you are a woman! It is quite the find! Ah, but where are my manners? Come in, come in! I will fetch some wine, and, oh—bah! And I must clean up this place! Please forgive me; I can never seem to be organized. My work is like my thoughts—everywhere!"

He handed the drawings back to Catherine before hurrying inside, and the redhead turned to Maria, whom had this _look_ on her face. The older woman said nothing, just smiling still, and waltzed inside. The redhead groaned slightly, although she couldn't help smiling, too. She knew she wasn't all that good in comparison—nor would she ever be, she reckoned—but to have been complimented anyways by _the_ Leonardo da Vinci? She seriously had to be dreaming now, and this time she didn't want to wake up.

Maria called her name, braking her stupor, and she hesitantly entered. Her eyes widened at once, marveling at the place. It was actually fairly large, although the clutter made it seem a bit smaller. There was scaffolding to reach second levels, and on them were paint supplies and other tools, which matched the floor level. Even more tools were strewn about along the floor with countless paintings, many of them unfinished, but already looking incredible and breath taking. She wished she'd studied him more—she might have recognized some of them, but most, if not all, held no familiarity to her. She still ogled them and all the little crafts he had, tough. When her gaze went upwards again, she had to balk with awe. She had heard about it before, but she'd never actually seen the contraption, yet there it was: his flying machine. It was incredible. He was so far ahead of his time it just didn't seem real!

"Would you care for some wine or bread or, ah, what can I do for you?" the man spoke up, looking as bashful as ever. It was hard to believe someone so talented could be that way, and it made him rather endearing.

"Oh, do not worry, Leonardo, we ate before coming," Maria chuckled before motioning Catherine forward.

"If you are certain," he went on, looking to both of them, whom nodded. "Well, do tell me if you change your mind; I am certain I have glasses and a bottle somewhere. In the meantime, please, sit. It is a bit cluttered, and for that I do apologize."

"No need; if I didn't like having space to walk, my room back home would be cluttered with my things, too," Catherine chuckled, still standing, although Maria had sat down.

"I see it is a common trait among artists. Hmm... I must ask—and do forgive my curiosity—but what caught your interest in the arts? Again, I do not know many female artists besides perhaps a nun or two, and yet you are a noblewoman!"

She chuckled softly as she rubbed the back of her head, "Well… I had some free time as a child and, well… I saw someone drawing once, and I just started myself. I liked it a lot so I continued to draw until I simply got… well, _better_ at it. Eventually I used, ah, models, so to speak. Just people around the house. I namely only did portraits, though. I struggled with backgrounds, but I could draw faces—oh, and animals. I always loved drawing animals. My dogs were my favorite. That, or whatever came to mind."

"And you simply learned it by… watching? Examining the things around you?"

"Well, yes? If I struggled with something, I would go find it and draw it until I got it right, and then try to do so without the reference—the model, I mean. I took maybe a few lessons, but I never had a proper teacher beyond trial and error and practice. I think I've done well enough by it—o-of course, I don't compare to what _you _can do or anyone else, but it, ah… I like to do it; it passes the time and helps an overactive, ah, imagination," the redhead continued, flushing some when she thought she'd gotten a little too bold.

"You should hear her stories, Leonardo; she is always creating all kinds of things in them," Maria added, and again Catherine wanted to groan inwardly despite the excited glimmer in the artist's eyes.

"You like to invent things?"

She waved her hand, "Er—not… not really? Ah, that is to say I _make up_ things like… like creatures or fantasy lands when I tell stories to her son, but it is not like an invention like you have."

"Even I have imagined things that cannot be—you should not brush it off so easily," Leonardo smiled warmly at her and motioned to the chair near him. "Come, sit, my Lady. Tell me of the things you have invented. I am always curious to hear or find new things. It is my one true weakness I am afraid!"

Catherine hesitated despite the artist's cheerful demeanor. Again, he was just so famous in her time, she was pretty sure she was dreaming. There was another thing, but she couldn't bring herself to deny his request or the way Maria looked so pleased with herself; as if she had done some great service. Maybe the woman had, and she just wasn't so sure yet. Of course, Catherine was ecstatic to meet him and be _talking_ to him, but it was making her anxiety just shoot through the roof. It only got worse, too, when the older woman suddenly stood up, that coy smile on her face.

"Forgive me, but I just remembered there is something I must attend to at the _Palazzo_. Leonardo, would you be so kind as to escort Catherine home when you two are done? Or, if you are busy, I will simply send one of the boys in a few hours…"

The artist chuckled, "No need. I know the way well enough by now. It was good to see you again, Madame Maria. I will have your painting done soon, I promise!"

"I will hold you to it," the older woman laughed and then left them be, either oblivious to Catherine's evident nervousness and awkwardness, or feeling too devilish to care. Either way, the redhead was alone with one of her favorite and most talented artists and she wasn't sure what to do—besides staring at the ground, that is.

"Are… you alright, my Lady?"

She looked to him quickly, fingers twiddling on their own, "Ah—er, yes. I am. I just, ah… I'm… nervous?"

He laughed lightly, "There is no need to be nervous! I am hardly worthy of making anyone so. Come now, do I really seem so threatening?"

"Er—no, not threatening. It's just… you're, ah… your work is _amazing_," she replied, glancing to his paintings. "Even the unfinished ones are just beautiful. I can't help feeling a bit out of place here. And then… um, well… I mean… Maria—er, _Madame_ Maria kind of forced me on you out of the blue because I drew a few portraits. I feel like I'm, ah… you know—intruding or… or something."

"Oh, no, no, no, my Lady, please do not feel that way!" Leonardo exclaimed, coming over to grasp her hands and give a gentle squeeze. "I may be busy, but I am always eager to learn new things from a fellow artist and inventor. Please, do not feel you are a burden—I assure you are not!"

Catherine sighed a little, meeting his eyes. She couldn't quite believe that was true; she hadn't met anyone who was really so kind yet, but—perhaps just for a little while—she would believe it. So she smiled and nodded at him, and he grinned right on back before releasing her hands and bringing up a chair so they could both sit, which she finally did.

"So. What are these 'things' you have invented?"

"Well, it's nothing really… _real_—not like your flying machine up there," she replied, waving up at the contraption. She jumped a little when the young man suddenly gasped.

"You know what it is?!" he asked, looking completely surprised, and then laughed. "And here I thought it would—ah, this… well, this is so surprising, and now you are even more fascinating! A noblewoman who is an artist, an inventor, _and_ she already knows my secrets! Tell me—please, you must—how did you gather it was a flying machine? Everyone who sees it has thought it only a mad contraption to perhaps scare intruders!"

Catherine flushed again, biting her tongue as the notion of "I'm from the future so I know all about your inventions sort of" went through her mind, but was promptly beaten back. If only she _could_ tell him. Of course, he probably wouldn't have believed her, and she didn't dare accidentally mess up the time line by letting him know he would be. Granted, he would become famous in the end, but she didn't want to take the chance.

"Well, it's… well, it reminded me of a bird or a bat with the pointed edges, but you have handles and spots that look like they could be used to brace oneself on. And, ah, well, if you just wanted to make something to look scary, why put the braces and holds? You don't have those unless there's a purpose, and why else give something wings but to fly? At least, that's what I figured," she mused, hoping he might buy that. Thankfully, he did, chuckling with such great pleasure that she couldn't help smiling and chuckling a bit herself. "Sorry if I ruined your secret—I promise I won't tell, although I would love to know if it actually works."

The man sighed with exasperation, slumping some, "Alas it does not! It is too faulty still and I have not had the time to work on it! And even my miniature models will not fly—they only glide! I am missing some key component! I don't suppose you might have any ideas?"

"Hey, don't look at me. The things I imagine are far beyond human limitations. Besides, you're a genius if you've already started figuring out a way to make a man fly. You'll figure it out in no time."

"I thank-you for your confidence, my Lady."

She grinned, "Don't worry—you'll figure it out, and, please, just call me Catherine. I'm afraid I'm not much of a lady, though I might look it."

"If you insist, 'Catherine'," Leonardo hummed wryly, but then tapped his forehead lightly. "Ah! Here I go again! I meant to ask you of your things, and here I am babbling on about my own! Any rudeness is not attended, I assure you—."

"It's fine, Leonardo, really. It's actually a lot of fun to talk about it, but if you must know… well, again, mostly I make things that _couldn't_ happen in reality. That or it's just fanciful creatures."

"Oh? Do tell—both, I mean."

"Uh, well," she rumbled, scratching her cheek lightly. "Like… flying ships—without wings. Er, well, some have wings, but not like a bird—more smooth and sharp, to cut through the air. And… well, right now only magic powers them, because I couldn't see wings getting them aloft. See? I told you they were silly things."

The artist had started laughing a bit, but settled down as he replied, "I am not making fun of your ideas! I would have to laugh at my own otherwise, it's just the thought of your ships brings such joy! A ship that can _fly_! Oh, to be able to have such a thing! Why, you could travel seas much faster! Ah, it is just a joy to find a like mind—there are not enough here in _Firenze_!"

"Well, I'd have to say it's because you're one of a kind, Leonardo. You see the world so differently, but in such an amazing way, too. Er—that is… well based off what I've seen so far, anyways," the redhead chuckled, having almost blown her cover. Sort of.

"I merely wish to change the world, you see. So far I have only been able to capture it—put it to paper in my drawing and sketches, but it is not enough. I need to do _more_. I feel I must."

"Thus, the flying machine?"

"Well, not quite, and yet yes! Truthfully, I wish to be more practical; perhaps build things—like bridges or machines to help people. I have it all there, I know what is I want, but it has been difficult making it a reality just yet."

"Is it the supplies or getting a license or…?"

He shook his head, "No, no… well, I suppose supplies is an issue, but if I could appeal to the Medici and they accepted it would be no problem. No, it is… hmm… it is that it does not quite… take form. Something is missing. It is as if it is a painting missing one important thing, and yet no matter how long you stare or look at your subject, it just cannot come to you. Ah, but I must not be making much sense."

"No, no it makes complete sense. I know _exactly_ what you mean. I'll fall into a rut with my art or a story and I just know I'm missing that one thing—like trying to find the word on the tip of your tongue. Unfortunately, it only ever comes when you least expect it. In your case, you'll probably be painting or working on something completely different and you'll suddenly have a revelation!" Catherine laughed in reply, and he joined her.

"I suppose you are right. It is just so frustrating! It does not help my art keeps me busy—not that I mind. The coin is very useful for funding my projects, and I do love our dear Madame. She has been one of my best and longest patrons. Truly, if not for her help I might not be where I am today. Oh, but here I am rambling again. I have made quite a bad habit of it, haven't I?" he hummed, grinning wryly.

"I don't mind. It's fun talking with you. Maria—er Madame Maria does love art a great deal, but she just likes to have it or see it. She doesn't really know the creative process of it, and the others don't really, either. Certainly not Ezio or Federico—they prefer chess or being cheeky. Claudia is too… well, haughty, and Petruccio… hmm, well, he's the closest, but I think he prefers to play pretend rather than draw," the redhead replied, leaning on the arm rest of her chair. "So, please, 'ramble'. It's a nice change of pace, actually. I've been kept busy ever since I got here."

"Ah, so I assumed correct—you are not from _Firenze_. Where are you from them? Further north?"

She snickered, "No, I'm from England actually—yes, yes, my Italian is very good, or so I've been told."

He snickered, "Not quite what I was going to say, but, yes, your Italian _is_ excellent, although a little unrefined. Rather, it explains your appearance, and I wonder if you know any famous artists in England? There are some excellent works there as well."

"Sorry, 'fraid not. I lived out on a country estate with my father. The only people I really knew were the servants and such."

"Ah, a shame, although it makes your talent all the more fascinating."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a flatterer," Catherine purred playfully, and the artist blinked in surprise before laughing.

"I merely try to be polite."

"And you're the epitome of it... anyways, I was just teasing. What else have you made besides the flying machine, or is it your only precious baby so far?"

Leonardo chuckled, "You have such an odd way of speaking. You are simply full of surprises, Catherine. To answer your question, though: yes—at the moment. I have architectural things in mind and anatomy as well, but they're just sketches so far."

"Would… could I see them? I… I mean, I'm just curious, honest. I've yet to really meet any other artists and—."

"I would be delighted. But only if you show me your own sometime. If I understand correctly, you, what was it—'doodle'?" he hummed, causing her to blush. He stood then, going over to his desk to shuffle through the various pieces of parchment there.

"Er—yes… it's nothing really detailed; just some little ideas or what not. It's probably nothing you'd really want to see."

He waved his hand, "Nonsense, and it is only fair. I could not very well ignore your own sketches and only show mine. Besides, I am delighted to see the work of others—it is an opportunity to see the world in a new way! How could I say no to that?"

Catherine paused, looking at Leonardo. She couldn't really explain it, but she was filled with this weightlessness. It was something she hadn't had in a long time; she almost couldn't remember its name. She knew she was feeling it, though. The smile on her face refused to leave, and though she was honored and humbled by his words, she didn't feel so out of place anymore. She dared to say it was like being with an old friend, and yet they just met. How was it that this man could make her feel so at ease? It didn't seem possible, and yet here he was.

It was nice.

"Ah, here they are. Come, come, take a look—tell me what you see," Leonardo called, motioning her forward. She came beside him without hesitation, gladly taking in the sight of the sketches of birds and landscapes and bridges and so much more. It was incredible, and though she knew she was getting to live an impossible opportunity, it didn't make her anxious. In fact, the notion was far in the back of her mind. There was only joy in this; a chance to relax and feel at ease—no worries, no need to be the best she could be; just talking; discussing; learning new ways to see things.

Of course it was more than that. They talked of many things—of the beauty of the world, of inventions and creations, of techniques and observations of people, of the city, of everything it seemed like. It didn't really matter; they were simply two patrons of the art who saw the world in ways others might not—in his case, in ways nobody did—and rejoiced in talking about it. They were just happy for one another's company, sharing drink and food as the minutes became hours, and the sun made its way through the sky. It didn't seem possible for time to have moved so fast, and yet it had, and Catherine was surprised at how disappointed she was when she heard a knock on the door, behind which Ezio was waiting.

It was not all bad, though; Leonardo urged her to come see him whenever she wished, be it to draw or speak of "things". For that, she was glad. As much as she loved the Auditore's, there was a weight there unlike here, and so she happily told the artist she would be back very soon—if she could. Nothing more to be said, Ezio kindly "escorted" her back, although really it was more-so pestering her about her time, as if he were jealous. The thought of it made her laugh, and it was such fun to have him huff all the way back and even through dinner, although she told him and everyone else all that happened. Maria, of course, was quite pleased with herself, and Catherine made sure to thank her quietly when alone. How could she not? Even in the house right now she felt still relieved and happy—at peace. It seemed as though it had been forever since she'd had that, and it made the night pass in an unusual blur of bliss. It even helped shorted the sleepless hours of the night, although there had been no concentrating on reading.

No, she could only think of one thing, and it was of that workshop not far from the palace.

She couldn't wait to go back.

* * *

**07 **\- End

* * *

**TMWolf**_: So I'm guessing you figured it out, but-LEONARDO! He showed up this chapter, and you may have noticed he's kinda like an excited puppy. Literally, that's how I see him because he so freaking adorable! He also gets super excited about things, and considering not many women were artists back then (they DID exist, but were either nuns or had an artist for a father), I just knew he would get excited about 'Cat. Her skills basically range about mine, which you can get an idea of on my tumblr or DA (t-m-wolf), if you're so curious. But, ah, yeah, so she's caught his interest, and you can be they're going to get along. Poor 'Cat has to watch what she says, though-he can't know how famous he will get, ha ha. Oh, and I assumed Leo would be like this with just how kind and gentle he is and how loved he was by most everyone that met him, according to a lot of biographies about him, anyways._

_So, yeah. They're pretty much going to be bff's, if only because 'Cat has future knowledge and understands concepts that would help the physics or his inventions or ideas, ha ha. You'll see more of what I mean in future chapters-especially since she can be more at ease here. Of course, the trouble can't stay away forever, and indeed it will come rearing back next chapter after a few days go by._

_But that's next chapter and you'll see what I mean ;)_

_Also, 'Cat totally drew Ezio with a big nose. She totally did. 'Rico did kind of ask her to, too, hehe heh. Also, some baby hints on things that have gone on in the background there aren't maybe too important, but kind of are, so keep on the look out for what that will bring about in the end :)_

_So, I think that's about it... next chapter is... some trouble, but gonna lead to an ever more fun chapter! ;)_


	9. Talk

**TMWolf: **_Aaand back in action. Well, I guess technically right on time, but I definitely finished writing late this week. Blame my friends-they know who they are hehehehe Anyways, next chapter up and this one brings to to a head all what's been bothering our dear 'ol protag and set up the next chapter, which is going to be fun! Right, soo... don't think next chapter should be late or anything, so on to the next bits._

_Reviews, which are you guys are so awesome for!_

_Dobby: hehehe, I maaaaaaaaaaay have been hinting at that... since Flynn and Ezio are totally the same, hahaha. And thanks a bunch! I hope I continue to do good by you! xD And always happy to provide ;)_

_Right, so this chapter's song is from Coldplay - Talk. It's pretty fitting... in both title and lyrics, so there you go ;)_

_Now on to stressed Catherine, yeah!_

* * *

**08 **– Talk

* * *

**July 20, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

A gentle shake on the shoulder stirred Catherine from her mostly dreamless sleep—she thought she'd seen the God man, but it was gone as she opened her eyes to see the dimly lit figure of Annetta. She whispered something about needing to wake up and get going, and the redhead made a sound of acknowledgement as she looked to the closed window and saw only the faintest of light trickling through. It could have only been the wee hours of the morning, which wasn't right; she got to sleep in until the sun was farther up when she was with Maria.

"Annetta, why did you wake me up?" she yawned, her body practically screaming and begging her to stay in the bed and keep on resting, but she slipped out anyways.

"Lady Maria will be busy today and cannot see to you. Giovanni asks you train with Federico instead. He will be waiting in the courtyard," the maid replied, bowing her head respectfully and then leaving the room. Catherine sighed, though grinned a little when she remembered how the maid used to try and help her dress. She had put a stop to that pretty quick, much to Annetta's confusion—except when it came to her gown. _That_ she needed help with, but trousers and vests? That was easy.

_'Well, here we go,'_ the redhead rumbled silently as she stretched herself and made for the chamber pot in the room. She honestly had to say she disliked using it and that it was pretty gross since she couldn't flush—although she supposed the servants throwing the waste out could _technically_ count—but she was getting used to it. It never took her long, really, to get used to new situations. However, she figured she might never get used to not having the simple things she'd always taken for granted back home. She certainly missed lights and running water everywhere—especially _warm_ running water. Baths just weren't the same. They were warm at first, but once it was filled, that was it. She also missed the Internet—missed being able to chat with friends or check out artwork or reads comics and stories. She missed TV, too, although she only really used it to pass the time when she wasn't busy unless there was a new show, and she was pretty busy here.

Since she wasn't with Maria, she changed into her boy's clothes once she'd finished up and got her hair into a ponytail, and was relieved to be in the shirt and vest, and especially the pants. Sometimes she thought it was weird she was wearing clothes that the brothers once wore, but it was better than the other option. She also preferred her boots, which she slipped on with ease, and then hurried into the hallways and down the stairs. Since it was so early, she wouldn't have any breakfast—not until after she'd finish with Federico—though it wasn't long before her stomach rumbled a bit. If there was one really great thing about this place, it was the food. It was always perfectly made, although she wasn't sure how comfortable she was about her growing taste for wine. It was kind of all they had to drink really, since the water wasn't always good. Drinking laws were very different in the past, too. _Very_ different.

"Hey, 'Rico," Catherine yawed as she reached the courtyard. It was a little humid already, so this morning wouldn't be as fun as it could be.

The young man smiled, "Good morning, Catherine. My apologies for having you join me on such short notice."

"It's not your fault," she waved at him. "Anyways, shall we get going? The sooner we get going, the sooner it will be breakfast."

"Always so eager to break your fast," Federico laughed and turned around so he could begin climbing the siding of their house. She recalled his mother disliking the action, but they were never really punished for it, and the older woman was asleep, so up they went. The redhead paused to gaze out at the rising sun, golden light just barely peaking over the horizon line and orange tiles of the city. The sky was lit in a glorious canvas of yellows, reds, purples, and blues. In the distance she could hear some of the city already coming to life, but she was pulled away soon enough. She had training to do after all.

Federico brought her to a less populated part of the city—in particular to a large, flat rooftop that gave plenty of room to move around, and was apparently where he and his brother would spar as well. They didn't compete as much anymore, but now that they were there it would be made useful once more. To begin with, the elder Auditore removed his top tunic, leaving him in his looser, white undershirt tucked into his belt. Catherine, like-wise did the same. At first she'd been a little uneasy for fear her bra might show, but the older brother had not-so-subtly hinted he couldn't see anything. If he had been Ezio, she would have kept her vest on, but she trusted Federico, and it honestly made movements easier.

"How are you feeling today?" the young man inquired as they prepared, and she shrugged.

"Mostly just tired right now, but you _did_ wake me up early."

"I did apologize," he grinned sympathetically.

She grinned back, "I know. But I'm still going to tease you about it. I mean, I can't _just_ tease Ezio, and you hardly ever leave yourself open."

"Ah, a bad habit then, I am afraid—one I do not think I can break," he snickered as he fixed his sleeves, making sure they were up to his elbow.

"And you call _yourself_ the fun one. I'm starting to think you're actually boring, 'Rico. If you don't spice it up I just might actually prefer your baby brother over you."

"Luckily for me, I know you dislike his antics far more than my 'boringness'."

"Tsk. Damn. And here I thought I could outsmart you."

"I would not be a very good teacher then… although you have proven very resourceful. You may yet manage to outsmart me."

"Now, now, I'm not falling for that false sense of security. You're trying to make me mess up," she snorted, giving him a quick glare.

Federico laughed, "It seems you found me out already. Ah, but that is enough banter for now; we need to get started. We'll be doing the usual: just try and hit me and do not get hit yourself."

"I'll try not to ruin that pretty face," she winked back with a grin, making him laugh some more.

"Luckily for me, that is not my only asset," he mused before lunging forward suddenly, striking out with his fist. She lurched back to avoid it and then threw her leg up to hit his side. He grinned wickedly as he wrapped an arm in a vice grip around the limb, holding her there. She rolled her eyes as he gave her that "I-told-you-not-to-do-that" look, and he made to throw her down, but she quickly grabbed his arm, twisted her hips, and pulled him down with her. She hit her knee a little hard, but he hit hard enough to loosen his grip, too, so she quickly rolled up just as he did.

"If I have a huge bruise on my knee I'm blaming you," she mused as she threw a punch at his face, which he ducked and then rammed his shoulder into her gut. She grunted and then groaned as she was thrown backwards and forced to roll over her head. Wrestling instinct saved her—she pushed with her shoulder blades and hands to her feet. It was done just in time, too. Federico threw a punch, which she just narrowly avoided. Gritting her teeth, she rolled out of the way and got back into stance, arms up to defend herself. Her opponent walked around her a bit, no doubt trying to throw her off her game, but she was as ready as she could be.

A final step and he rushed at her, swinging from the left. She back-stepped, and then threw her own from her right. Of course, he side-stepped with a smirk and moved to wrap arms around her neck in a choke hold. She managed to get her chin down so he couldn't press too close into her neck, but he had her. She grasped at his arms, but he was a lot stronger than her, and she hadn't yet found a good way to get out of it.

"Do not waste time on the arms, Catherine—either ram your heel into my foot or leg, or shove your elbow into my gut. If possible, try and head-butt me as well," he explained, and she let out a sigh.

She smirked a moment later, though, "Yeah… or I could hit you in the balls—that should work, too, right?"

Federico promptly released her, hands up as he laughed and backed up quite a few steps. She smirked before rolling her neck and shoulders, and doing a few little hops. Round one was done with her mistakes made and solutions found. That was how it usually went, although she thought she was doing better. Maybe.

"Your punches are still too slow, but your dodging has improved. Those fancy moves of yours are also quite useful," he hummed, no doubt meaning her twisting and rolling up.

"I _would_ teach you, but I like having at least one thing on you," she chuckled before looking to her arms, which were a bit scraped up. "We really need a better place to spar."

"No place better, and think of this way: the better you get, the less scrapes you will have, no?" Federico replied, and after a short pause, she mumbled an "I guess". He chuckled lightly. "Well, if you are ready, let us go again—and watch out using your legs. You should only use them when your opponent is completely open, lest they catch it as I did."

"You're lucky I never catch yours—I'd have you on underneath me on your back pretty fast," she snorted, only to raise a brow as he smirked cheekily.

"I never knew you were the dominating type, Catherine. I am almost tempted to let that happen."

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, though flushed a tiny bit, "Please don't tell me you're becoming like Ezio—I thought you were a _gentleman_."

"Where do you think Ezio _really_ learned how to woo women?"

"So you've been teaching him wrong this whole time?"

"Well, only half the time," he winked as he got into stance.

She copied him, snickering, "You're awful."

"I am merely an older brother. Now come. We will miss breaking our fast at this rate."

Catherine just shook her head with a grin as she threw the next punch.

**-O-**

Catherine rubbed at her cheek, the flesh sore after Federico had hit it. He hadn't actually meant to and apologized profusely, but she wouldn't have blamed him anyways. It was their last round, and they were both tired and getting a little too much into the fight. It couldn't be helped; since they were fatigued she was starting to finally catch his mistakes and the frustration just built up until blows weren't held back. She made a small misstep and he'd clipped the cheek. It wasn't fully on, but it still hurt and she'd be nursing the sore spot for the rest of the day. Thankfully it hadn't bruised yet, so she didn't have to make any excuse for the other children. Giovanni she never had to make an excuse for, not that he was at breakfast long enough. He had to leave to the bank, and with him went Federico and Ezio, both of whom had chores to do.

That just left her, Claudia, and Petruccio, but the daughter only paid her a little mind—she wasn't as nasty anymore, but still indifferent—before heading off to spend time with her lady friends, and Petruccio, much to his dismay, had his lessons. Thus, Catherine was on her own.

Which was weird.

She hadn't had a day where she'd been on her own since coming here, and she wasn't so sure she liked it. It reminded her too much of when she was trying to sleep—when there was nothing to occupy her mind. It let the dangerous thoughts come in and run wild, and she couldn't have that. As such, she'd quickly tried to find something to do, but came up with nothing besides drawing. That by itself, though, was not nearly enough to keep the thoughts at bay. It _did_ remind her of someone else, however, and so she found herself as she was now: walking through the streets with parchment and tools in hand. Thankfully, she got no looks when she dressed like a boy and was glad for it. She honestly hated the looking.

Catherine smiled as she reached the particular door she was after and rapped three times on it. She heard the familiar clutter of something being dropped and a curse, grinning with amusement. She counted off the seconds and, as usual, her favorite artist opened the door right on cue. He blinked with surprised and a bit of confusion.

"Ah—well, ah, hello! To what do I owe the honor, young man?" he asked, and the redhead almost let out her laugh.

"Leonardo—it's _me_. Catherine."

The young man blinked again before recognition appeared in his eyes, "It _is_ you! I did not—you are dressed so differently, and then your hat! I hardly recognized you! Come in, come in! Let me get some drinks or something."

"I ate not long ago, so no worries, and it's a good thing you _didn't_ recognize me; that's kind of the point of me dressing like a boy," she snickered as she followed Leonardo in, shutting the door behind her, and venturing over to his work table. She set her things down there in what little free space he had and happily flopped down into the near chair. "I hope you don't mind me coming over. I was hoping to draw or paint a bit. I might back at the _Palazzo_, but it just… ugh, I don't know. I don't feel inspired there or something."

"I told you are always welcome here. I could use someone to speak to of my latest ideas. I have written things down, but I still struggle with it," he sighed, shaking his head as he motioned at the paper before him, scribbles and drawings all over it. She came to stand next to him, looking at it, and noticed the pictures resembled landscapes, particularly that of rocks and mountains. She also realized his letters weren't written normally, yet she understood them. She didn't dare tell him, though; no, she feigned innocence to not seem suspicious. There was no way he wouldn't find her being able to read Italian backwards without trouble odd.

"So… we have… mountains then?" she asked, and the artist folded his arms with a nod.

"Yes, the Apennine not far from here. It is not quite accurate, as is just a simply sketch I did it from memory, but I just had to work on it when a thought struck me: just _how_ did they come to be?" he began, throwing one hand up and then rubbed his short beard, face set sternly. "Our doctrines state God made it so, but it just does not fit! I cannot be satisfied with God's will! No, there is something else at work here; something deeper; more concrete; more _real_. I just—I simply cannot grasp it yet!"

"Well, what _exactly_ is it that you can't grasp? How the mountains were formed?"

He sighed, "Yes? No! Well… perhaps? I am still uncertain. But… I think that it is. How could they be formed if not by God's will? What could cause such great formations to come to be? And how does it relate to the eroding of the rocks and how the land has steps, as if they were made to be walked on, yet it matches the moving of the ea. There is something there to connect it all, but I cannot yet find it…"

"Hmm… well… maybe there's some… force—some _huge_ force, be it God's will or something else, pushing the rock of the mountain up? And maybe that movement makes, uh… the sea move, too? Something like that?" she tried, doing her best to not reveal too much. She actually knew exactly what he was trying to figure out: plate tectonics. He was so damn close, but she couldn't just tell him. It would create too many questions and history said he found it out himself. She had to make sure she didn't mess with the timeline since he was pretty much the _one_ thing he knew about Renaissance Italy.

"A… 'force'… like… a push? Something pushing… perhaps… the Earth? The Earth pushing against itself like… like this!" Leonardo suddenly gasped and grabbed a piece of paper. He placed his hands on both sides and then pressed them together, causing the middle to push up—not unlike how a mountain would be. The artist laughed, throwing up his hands with delight. "Aha! Yes! That is it! A 'force'! Oh, Catherine, you are a genius! That is _exactly_ what is or—or _must_ be! And perhaps the moving of the Earth's surface causes the sea to move and rise as well and that would make the steps I have seen and just—ah! This is wonderful! Catherine, I owe you greatly, my friend!"

"Hardly. All I did was say a few words. You would have found it out on your own soon enough. Besides, have you looked around your workshop? It's pretty obvious who the genius is. Although I am _very_ happy to help you find your genius," she grinned and moseyed on back to the chair.

"Perhaps, but it would have taken longer without you being here. I really must thank-you."

"Leonardo, it's fine. I'm just happy to have someone to talk to about, well… _normal_ things, I guess. Things I 'get', anyways."

"And you know I feel the same," he smiled softly, though frowned with a hint of concern as he tilted his head. "You are… uneasy with the Auditores?"

"Huh? Oh—no! No, no. Not them… it's just… well, um… this place… it's not… home. I'm just home sick really. New place, new things to get used to. Your place is the first I've had where I can actually be more like how I am without feeling like something is expected of me or worry about what people think over something I did," she sighed, slumping down, and picking up her parchment. Some of her doodles were on there—things she'd always liked drawing back in her own time; story ideas and characters and such.

"I... understand—at least the part about worrying what others think. I have had my own share of troubles with that… but, ah, never mind—do not mind me. Rather, if it helps, feel free to draw and paint as much you like. My workshop is yours to use, although I may ask for your help if another idea comes to mind," the young man chuckled, and she managed to smile back.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, my friend. Consider it repayment—even if you do not think you deserve any. Now, come; let us work. I do have a painting to finish, so if I could perhaps have another favor… do help keep me on track. I get distracted so easily…"

"I'll try my best," she chuckled and started to sketch a bit. "Go ahead and talk if you want—I'm pretty good at drawing and talking at the same time. Also, don't feel you can't worry about yourself around me. I don't mind letting someone vent to me—especially if they consider me a friend."

He chuckled, "You are too kind, Catherine. But, ah… this is a matter best left forgotten. Preferably completely so. I thank-you, though."

Catherine withheld raising her brow, and nodded instead, "Of course. Now, let's both get working, shall we? If I remember right, this patron is one you've kept waiting a week now, yes?"

"Ah, er… yes. They are, ah… becoming rather… frustrated. I shall see to it then," Leonardo mused a bit nervously as he headed over to the piece. The redhead just snickered and let him get to work, though was all too happy to speak with him as he did so; talking of his idea of plate tectonics, and rising sea levels—not that he got it quite right, but he had the idea. When that was taken as far as it could go, he would explain his potential alterations to his flying machine or mention a theory about how light worked; something on changing it because what was taught now was just still did not capture life properly. He spoke of his architectural ideas and how, again, he hoped to do more direct things for the world, but still did not have the proper "means" for it.

Like before, it was a bit of peace she had been missing for a while, although this time she found herself _still _missing parts of it. Her mind would wander into a dullness or her head would nod as weariness ran rampant through her body. Of course, she could never doze off; no, she maybe spaced out for a bit, but she'd always jerk awake or just open her eyes again as some stupid notion came to mind. It was a curse, she swore it was, and she didn't know how to be rid of it.

Yawning and rubbing her eyes she looked over at the artist, "Sorry, Leonardo—what was that?"

"I was just curious as to what you have been drawing… and it seems I have been boring you," he chuckled, and though he obviously wasn't offended, she winced anyways and quickly shook her head.

"No, no—I'm not bored. I'm just tired. Some mostly sleepless nights is all… and I haven't really done much—just dumb doodles. Not much creativity in me today," she yawned again as she let her head fall back and legs splay out.

"Ah. I am afraid my home is not much of help today, is it?" he smiled back a bit sadly when he walked over to her. Catherine sighed.

"Which it shouldn't. I mean, this is only about the fourth time I've been here, but it's been great and I love talking with you… I just… ugh. I don't know. Maybe I have an artist's block—you know, a lack of inspiration."

"It happens to the best of us. Perhaps if you took a stroll? I tend to find my inspiration when I go out and look upon the world," he offer gently, and she finally looked back at him. She thought on it for a moment before letting out a deep breath of air.

"Maybe. It's better than just sitting around here getting nowhere, I guess. Sorry I'm kind of a letdown today."

"Nonsense. You are a great help. Now, allow me to help you and shoo you outside. Come back tomorrow or whenever you feel you are ready…. Although, perhaps not too long—I will no doubt need your aid soon. My mind simply cannot remain quiet."

She chuckled as she stood up, gathering her things, "And may it never be quiet. You wouldn't be you otherwise. I'll try and come back tomorrow or the day after—it depends on what I'm doing. You may just see me in a dress again."

"I am happy to welcome you in either," he snickered in return and said yet another goodbye before walking her to his door and letting her free. Once the door closed behind her, she groaned slightly. As much as she wanted to take Leonardo's advice, she knew it wouldn't help her. Her mind was just too cluttered and too tired to go around looking at nature, and she wasn't even sure that _would_ inspire her. Most of her inspiration honestly came from reading stories or watching movies or listening to music, and while she had the first of those at her disposal, they weren't the same ones. Most were historical or religious-based texts rather than fantasy or futuristic stories. Of course, it was much more than just a lack of inspiration, but Leonardo couldn't help with that and neither would strolling about.

So, with a heavy head and heart, she made her way back to the _Palazzo_. She was glad it was a short trip; she didn't really want to potentially deal with anyone, although going back to the house was a bad way to do that in the end. She knew she was bound to be bothered, but where else could she go? She certainly couldn't go off on her own, either. She didn't dare trust herself, and she had a feeling Giovanni wouldn't like it.

Once again, she was stuck.

As always—with no way out.

The red-headed young woman paused just inside the courtyard of the _Palazzo_, gazing around at the statues and intricate architecture, and let out a pitiful sigh. She sat down on the bench nearby and had her head fall back against the wall. There were just too many questions—most of them depressing—for her to think about, and she didn't have enough distractions to keep her busy.

"Catherine?" a voice cut through her melancholy state, and she jerked slightly as she realized who owned the voice.

"Er—yes, Giovanni? Sorry, I was, ah, just relaxing out here," she flushed, deciding to not meet his eyes at the moment. She heard him make that thoughtful rumble of his, and dared a glance. He didn't seem mad, but she wasn't always sure with him.

"Would you care to join me in my office?" he inquired, and a flicker of dread went through her. What had she done _now_?

"Of course," she replied, though it was more of a pitiful murmur. Still, she did not disobey him, and followed after the man into his office. Once again the room felt small and dark, and she felt even smaller sitting in front of his desk. Giovanni, however, was far more relaxed as he lounged back in his chair, watching her with this unusual smile. She'd seen it a few times when he was with his family having a fun time, but there wasn't generally a lot of fun in this room. Oh, they'd had some decent conversations. She'd talked a bit about the future with him, although not too much to avoid saying anything she shouldn't, and they discussed her good progress and such. It was nothing like when he was with his family, however; not that she expected him to.

"May I see your drawings from today? I saw the one of Claudia, and it was very good. She is quite fond of it now, actually," he began, holding out his hands, and she gave the parchments to him. He nodded with approval as he looked over them. "You have skill, and my wife tells me you are spending time with Leonardo da Vinci—her favorite artist. I take you two have gotten along well?"

"Yes. Or, I think so. He seems to like me around, and I enjoy it there."

"I am glad. As my wife says, it is good to have outlets. I take it you just came from there? A bit early to be back, no?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, "Umm… yes, the last time I was there I stayed longer, but, ah… I'm a little distracted today."

"Something troubles you," he mused, and she knew it was not a question.

"It's nothing serious—just… a little stressed. That's all."

Giovanni eyed her, "Is it? Though I am old and work keeps me busy, I am not blind, Catherine, nor are my wife and son. They have seen how you are. Federico has mentioned that, while you have progressed, it has slowed recently. You tire more quickly, and you are sluggish. Maria has mentioned you seem tired as well, yawning more often or losing your train of thought. I have not failed to notice something is wrong, and since you are under my care and your well-being is of importance to my work, I must ask: what ails you? I would not have a guest—especially one of your circumstance—be ill at ease in my home."

Catherine watched Giovanni closely, biting her lip first and then her tongue. How was it she was always so easy to read? Or was the older man just that good? No, Federico and Maria had noticed, too. She knew Ezio knew with how they kept meeting late at night. She didn't think she was that easy, but what did she know? She could hardly think right anymore, and this man and his family were those of Assassins. Still. She honestly didn't want to say anything—it might just get her in more trouble. What with her performance obviously failing, which she had promised wouldn't. He was probably furious about that, and he would take no lies or brushing off. God, she wanted to disobey him for once, but in the end her tongue loosened and she began to speak.

"I'm… lost. And stuck. That's… that's what it feels like anyways. I don't know what I'm doing here, Giovanni. I don't come from this place; I'm not used to how everything is here or how to be. I miss everything from home. I don't even _belong _here. And then… and then I don't even know why I'm here. How the hell can I be of any use? What the hell was the God-Lord or whatever he was thinking? Oh, I've got some skills and improved them, but what good are they? Not that it matters in the end, right?"

Catherine sighed deeply as she finished, running a hand through her hair. She had looked away from him during her speech, wanting to stare at anything that wasn't him. She just couldn't bear to.

"Like I said—I'm just a little stressed."

Giovanni was quiet for a long time before he answered, "So I see… is there… something I might do to remedy this?"

"Only if you can somehow give me things from my time or, better yet, send me back, then no, I don't think so," she chuckled somberly. "You don't know what you're missing living in this era."

"I imagine it is grand, and I have only gotten glimpses of it from you. I am afraid I can only apologize; I am unable to accommodate for you… but perhaps there is something else that I can do?"

"None that I can think of it, to be honest. I thought spending time with Leonardo would do it, but that's already losing its touch. It worked for a little while, though, at least."

"I see… Tell me then…what is it that you would do when you were stressed? Back in your own time?" he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

She waved her hand, "Um… well, I would do…. Fun things. I don't know… what, uh… shows—like plays, but ah… they're different in our time. In little boxes. Or I'd listen to music—_better_ music than what bards do. Or I'd play games. Also different. I would draw or write, but sometimes I'd go out and have some fun if I could—especially after doing a lot of work. I would just… I would do _something_. Whatever I wanted that made me feel better."

"Hmm… well, I cannot provide a play or a bard—my wife would have me hanged for the latter—and I take it the games we have are not quite enough, so perhaps… hmm…," the man rumbled, mind working as it always did and coming up with something. She waited on him patiently, barely letting herself hope she might be getting something—anything from it. He kept her waiting longer than she liked, but he finally answered as he set his hands on desk. "Catherine, how would you like to have a day to yourself? You would have no responsibilities. No training, no readings, no lessons, nothing. You may do as you wish—within reason, of course. I would also ask that you not go far on your own unless you have one of my sons go with you. I do not believe you might run off, but I would rather you not get lost or run into danger. I will only need one of them tomorrow, so either is available if you would like to take up on this offer."

Catherine blinked. Slowly. Her mind must have definitely been elsewhere, because what she just heard didn't seem real. A day off? As in, do whatever the hell she wanted and didn't care what people thought? Was it really that easy? Was it really happening? Was he finally giving her leeway? It had to be a dream. A dream in a dream or some other crazy thing. How else could it be explained?

"Uh, ah… that… you… you're… you're _serious_?"

Giovanni chuckled, "Yes. I am quite serious. I admit I had my doubts, but you have been here about two weeks now and you have shown no reason to doubt your word so far. You have also worked hard and strove to do what was asked despite your situation and all that works against you. It is only fitting I finally give something in return."

"I… just... ah… t-thank-you. I don't—I don't know what to… uh… wow, I actually don't know what to do now. Again," she laughed, leaning back in her seat with a wide grin on.

"Well, you have the rest of the day to think on it, if you would like. Just inform me beforehand so I will at least know where to find you should I need you."

"Right. Right! Yeah, of course. Anything. God, just—thank-you, Giovanni. I mean it. Really. Even if I've proven myself to you this… this means a lot. Really, it does."

"You are most welcome, Catherine. Now, go. Finish up whatever you have left today and then get a head start on your day off," the older man replied, motioning with her hands for her to go on and do as she said. Face brighter than it had been for a while, the redhead took back her drawings, and did just that; making her way to the parlor where she finally found quite a bit of inspiration and drew to her heart's content. At least, until Petruccio found her and shared stories and make-believe adventures for a while before Claudia joined them and they were forced to behave a little. She was not cross with them, but she did huff about as she seemed to love doing around them. Neither really understood why, but it was how it was.

Her happy stupor managed to last all through dinner where Giovanni made sure to warn the brothers she was not to be disturbed tomorrow. Ezio's pout gave her much delight, although she reluctantly promised Maria she would work extra hard on being a lady since she had missed a full day of it. However, she still managed to keep up her demeanor all through the later hours and even to bed, where she was certain she would fall asleep quickly. She would have liked it, anyways; a chance to be able to feel refreshed and ready for the new day.

Unfortunately, Catherine soon realized it was not to be as time passed and her eyes grew heavier and heavier, but no amount of tossing and turning appeased her weariness. No, she was still very much so awake, and she knew why:

She didn't know what to do.

Again.

Giovanni had finally given her some of the freedom from responsibility she'd craved, and yet she was _still_ stuck. What could she even really do on her day off? Where was there to go? She knew the city fairly well by now, yes, but what was there for her to do? She could maybe buy some food or art supplies or even a vest, but that wasn't much fun, and she didn't know anyone outside the family besides Leonardo. All she could really think she _might_ do involved being in the _Palazzo_ or at Leonardo's, but that was just what she always did, and it would not save her from her thoughts. That wasn't what she wanted at all, but she knew nothing else.

So with heavy heart and sigh, she cast a glare at her Clock as she always did—she swore the damned thing silently mocked her—lit a candle, and ventured out into the hallway where she picked up the book she hadn't finished reading last time. The chair upstairs probably had an indent in the perfect shape of her rear end by now, but there was nothing she could do. At least, nothing she could think of, anyways, that didn't involve knocking her out physically.

Thus, she read and read and read, the growing pool of wax and the much lower candle stick her only means of telling how much time had passed. It was quite a few hours, but though she yawned and occasionally her head drooped, she always managed to wake up again. She was starting to think there was no cure for her new insomnia. At least it was a routine, of sorts. She would start reading and near the end she would be disturbed by her _favorite_ Auditore. Sure enough, she heard the creek of wood as he approached.

"Up again?" the oh-so familiar voice of Ezio rang out just above a whisper, and Catherine looked up to find him standing in front of her, much closer than he usually was. She blinked, rubbing her eyes again, and shut her book after putting her make-shift bookmark in.

"Yeah. You out having 'fun' again, I take it?" she snorted, and mentally winced at how it sounded ruder than she wanted it to be. If the young man thought so, he didn't show it.

"Not the kind you are thinking of, but yes," he chuckled softly, eyes never leaving her. "Father said you have tomorrow free."

She nodded, "Mmm. I get to do whatever I want."

"Do you… already have any ideas?"

"Well… not really…"

"Good. You will come with me then—tomorrow, I mean," the young man suddenly grinned coming forward a bit more. She gave him an incredulous look.

"Excuse me?" she gaped a little too loudly, and so lowered her voice as she continued, "There is no way I am doing anything with _you_."

He gave her a pleading look as he took her free hand in his, "Catherine, please? I promise there will be no funny business or even a flirt or tease. I promise. You will not regret this. I swear it."

"The more you say you 'promise' or 'swear', the less I believe you…"

"On my honor as an Auditore. Just trust me, alright?" he smiled more sincerely, and if Catherine didn't know how bad he could be or if she were a softer girl, her heart might have fluttered. She was not, though, and so watched him carefully for a good long while, thinking as she always did. In the end, though, she sighed and nodded.

"Alright. Fine," she replied at last, but before he could say anything back, she jabbed a finger at him. "But if you so much as look at me wrong, I am leaving you and doing my own thing, got it?"

"Yes, my lady," he snickered before kissing her hand and trotting off before she could say more. He paused just before his door, though, winking. "Get some sleep, Catherine. You will need it for tomorrow."

The redhead just rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling just a little. Ezio really wasn't all that bad—he just preferred to be. She did take his advice, though; she had been out for long enough she figured she could sleep, and she probably would need her rest for whatever the trouble-maker had planned tomorrow. So with candle in tow, she returned to her room, gave the Clock another glare, blew out her candle, and hoped sleep would come.

Oddly enough, it did.

* * *

**08 **– End

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**TMWolf: **_Whelp, there's stressed Catherine given a day off-something she sorely needs! Better yet, it's Ezio to the rescue! Now you may finally realize why I had all those late night moments, tee hee ;) So yeah, a Catzio (that's the ship name lol) chapter tomorrow that I hope you'll all enjoy!_

_As for this one... yep. Cat is definitely stressed, and it's finally really getting to her. The insomnia is probably the worst, as it does definitely affect her performance, but can you blame her? Even Leo can't quite cheer her up, although he's the cutest man-puppy ever. Thankfully Giovanni is very perceptive, and he's not a complete jerk! :'D Despite how I first may have written him, he IS a nice guy ID I just wish I had more time to show off how they were, but I like to think the small changes in their moments together may show it._

_Anyways, so Talk is done, and a LOT of fun is coming next chapter... as compared to this filler chapter, ha ha. Except a LONG chapter, too! Lots of fun to be had, I promise! :) Also, adorable Ezio coming, so be ready!_

_P.S. Hope you enjoyed sassy Rico. Just a quick show of what she does, and because Rico needs more love than I am going to give him ;(_


	10. Little Wonders

**TMWolf: **_Aaaaaaaaand update time, guys! This is going to be a FUN chapter-one I think you've been waiting for, cause it's all about Catzio-Catherine x Ezio, I mean, although it's not exactly romantic, ha ha. Still, it's fun, so get ready! It's also preeeeeeetty long, but it's worth it. ;)_

_As always, how the Auditores are written is my interpretation based off canon and such~_

_Right, so, for my lovely reviewers:_

**Dobby**: _I... am totally okay with you stalking my story :L I think you will be pleased with Ezio today ;) Yeah 'Cat has it tough right now, but it WILL get better... for a little while, hehehe You'll find I like making ups and downs for my characters :p Also: *happily take lollypop and proceeds to lick* Yum._

**_MissMooToYou_**_: Awwww, thank-you so much! I'm so glad you love it! :)_

**_Movie: _**_The movie I speak of is Lineage-the "prequel" to AC II. It was a movie that follows Giovanni Auditore :3 I'm glad you're loving it, though!_

_And I think that was everyone. Right! So. This chapter is brought to you by Rob Thomas' - Little Wonders! I thought it fit pretty well for this chapter, hee hee. Whelp. I think that's all I have to say, so onto the chapter! :'D_

_OH! There IS some fouler language than usual used in this chapter, so if you dislike the f-bomb, but prepared. It happens more than once._

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**09 – **Little Wonders

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**July 21, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine yawned lazily as she sat up, blinking. It was odd getting to do that—just sit there, staring at the far wall and then the closed window where the sunlight was seeping through. It was definitely well past her training or even normal breakfast time. Maybe. She wasn't sure. Ironically, her Clock wasn't much of a clock. In fact, it didn't even tell time. The hand never moved, and of course a clock had two hands anyways.

"Ugh, stay out of my head for at least five minutes before I get going," she groaned as she rubbed her face to sigh slowly and deeply, and then roll out of bed as lazily as she could. Thankfully, Giovanni was keeping his word. Annetta hadn't come to wake her at all, and she could hear no footsteps outside. She's been allowed to sleep in and now she could do whatever she wanted. Again, she wasn't really sure what she _was_ going to do, but it was too soon after waking up to really think about it right now. No, she'd get all glum after she had something to eat.

So. Chamber pot. Done. Pants, white undershirt tucked into said pants, greenish tunic, gloves and boots on, haired brushed and pulled back into a make-shift bun, and a quick face check for stupid reasons. Check. Clock? Unfortunately, check. She shoved the stupid thing into her pocket where it belonged, looked into the mirror a second time with her hands on her hips, and sighed again. She missed seeing herself in normal clothes in her normal room behind her in the reflection. She missed seeing her dog lying on the bed, silently asking what she was doing and why wasn't she cuddling him instead? She missed a lot of things these days, but there was nothing to be done—not yet anyways.

_'Well, time to have a day off,' _she hummed as she adjusted her hat so it hid her hair a bit better. She still looked somewhat womanly up close, but from afar it had apparently been okay. That, or no one cared. She'd be on her own today, though, so there might be trouble. She supposed she should stick to the rooftops today to avoid any.

"First, food," she nodded firmly, and headed out into the _Palazzo_.

It was quiet, but she wasn't all that surprised. The family had probably all gone their separate ways after breaking their fast. Sure enough, she didn't find any of them as she got downstairs. The dining table was empty and clean of any morsels it might have had. However, Annetta was incredibly smart and kind; she'd saved some food for Catherine, and so the redhead didn't go hungry that morning.

"Giovanni said you would be waking up late," the maid smiled knowingly, and the redhead smiled back as she ate.

"Thanks. I appreciate it a lot. The food you cook is always good. Eggs are some of my favorite things to eat, too, although you should add milk and mix them—it really fluffs them up and can go farther," she replied, biting into her fruit next.

Annetta tilted her head, "Mix milk with the eggs?"

"Yeah. I would do it all the time back home. Just mix it up. You can add cheese, but cut it into thin strips and put it in as soon as you start cooking. You keep it going until you see some juice from the eggs start pooling—oh, you wanna do this on a skillet or something, because you have to stir it around a lot. I could show you one time, if you'd like."

"Wha—oh, no, no, my Lady. You should not be cooking, that is the servant's duty," the woman laughed lightly, but Catherine just grinned.

"I actually like to cook. How about this: when no one is looking you let me try?"

"My lady, you are too much. Please, enjoy your meal," the maid replied, just shaking her head with a chuckle before leaving the redhead alone in the kitchen. Catherine giggled as she scarfed down more of her food, glancing around the room. It was very different from her kitchen back home. It was way bigger and had a lot more tools and kitchen appliances and such. There were herbs and vegetables just hanging everywhere, too. It honestly did make her want to try cooking, but apparently nobles weren't supposed to do anything like that. Ah well.

_'Thanks for the good food,'_ she silently told the maid as she put her plate near what she figured was the sink and headed back out into the main area. She paused by an open door, though, when she saw a familiar face. It was Petruccio, hard at work reading his books. Well, sort of. She could see his gaze turn towards the window after a few moments, and she couldn't help snickering. He spun towards her at once, and perked up with a wide grin. He waved ebulliently and she waved back, but then winced when she heard his tutor calling his name. She hadn't seen the man yet, and she suspected she wasn't meant to see the teacher, so she quickly mouthed a good bye, gave the little boy another wave, and scurried off before she was spotted.

Safely out of sight, the young woman hummed as she trotted along, pausing only once more when she entered the parlor and found Claudia doing some needlework. The woman glanced her way, but said nothing when she went back to her work. It wasn't much, but Catherine took it as a sign that she wasn't mad anymore—or at least not _as_ mad as before. She waved even though the young woman wasn't looking and turned left back down the hall to continue toward the exit to the courtyard. She knew she wouldn't see anyone else—Maria was most likely still conducting her business and Giovanni and his sons would be working, so now was probably a good time to go find something to do outside the _Palazzo_. She knew she wouldn't find it here, and she couldn't help recalling Leonardo's suggestion.

So why not go see the city? Oh, sure she'd run through it for weeks now and knew it well enough, but she hadn't seen nearly enough of it. So why not today?

"Ah—you are awake! Finally!"

Evidently that was why.

Ezio Auditore, dressed in his usual dark vests, pats, and boots, with only a white undershirt to suggest he knew that other colors existed. She frowned and raised a brow at first, trying to figure out why he was here, but then groaned as she remembered.

She had said she'd go with him today.

"I can't believe you're actually here," she grumbled, rubbing her brow.

He grinned, "I said I would, and you agreed to it! Look, I promise I'll behave. I mean it."

"And I said if you made one flirt I was going to leave you," she replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"And you can… but you will not need to. I will behave," he urged again, giving her that puppy dog look. She rolled her eyes, giving him _her_ look back—the one that said he was full of shit. He still silently pleaded, though, and she knew he wouldn't give up. He was too damn stubborn for that, and once he found something he wanted he went for it. Why else would he still flirt with her every chance he got even after she'd made it clear for weeks she wasn't interested? Unfortunately, if she tried to tell him no, she knew he would just follow and pester her until she did finally agree. That, and she vaguely recalled Giovanni asking her to have one of the boys with her if she wanted to go out far. Federico wasn't around, however. Ezio was.

She just knew this wasn't going to end well.

Sighing with exasperation, she threw her hands up, "Alright, alright. Fine. _But_—no nonsense. Also, I was hoping to travel further around the city. Think you can fit that into your little antics?"

"That is perfect, actually. I planned to just have us run around."

"Wait—seriously? You—_you_ want to just… run around? That's it?"

"Yes?" he mused and he was the one to fold his arms over his chest this time. "Just what do you take me for, kitty-Cat?"

She smacked his arm, making him flinch to her delight, "Don't call me that. And I take you for a terrible flirt who does everything he can to get between a woman's legs, and you're _somehow_ successful. Evidently God gave you some good compensation."

"Would you care to-," he began, that lecherous grin coming back, but one "ah-ha" glance made him shut his mouth. Instead, he pouted. "That was cruel trying to trick me. And I am not as bad as you say! I admit I like to 'play' around, but I am not so terrible. Please, let me show you. There is much of the city you have not seen and you and I have nothing else to do today. So let's just go see the sights. And if you want to do something else, then let me know and we will do it, alright?"

"And what if I want to be alone?" she inquired, causing him to hum thoughtfully.

"Well, I will have to follow you from afar then—father did not want you to get lost, but if you _truly_ want me to leave you in peace, I will let you have it. I merely wish to help."

Catherine watched him for a few good seconds before huffing a little, "Alright. Yeah. Alright. Let's do this then. I want to see the city, so you probably know good places to go I guess. I'm counting on you, though—I want to have a _good_ time on my day off. I don't want to spend it fending off your terrible flirting."

"You won't. Now, come on. Or, well, actually—do you want to take the roofs or the streets? Either will do."

"Hmm… roof. We can get around better, and I can push you off if you annoy me," she smirked, and he finally got to roll his eyes back at her as he made for the wall of the _Palazzo_.

"You know you do not have to be _that_ mean to me," he hummed as he climbed, to which she just snickered as she followed him all the way up. She found him looking into the distance, pointing south-westward. "How about that way? You have not been towards that side before."

"What's the big building?"

"It is the _Basilica_. It is very beautiful. You will enjoy it. It is not too far, and we can have some fun along the way. We can visit the market as well if you would like. You need more art supplies, yes?"

"Ah, yeah, actually, I do. We can get it on the way back—it'd be better not to carry it around all day. Anyways, uh, lead the way then. You know the city better," she replied, motioning for him to get going.

"Try to keep up," he grinned with a wink and started off at a trot. She shook her head, but was smiling, and easily kept up with him.

Oddly enough, he _did_ behave, which was a new thing for her. Maybe it was because Federico wasn't there and he didn't feel like he had to compete or impress her. Maybe it was because he was actually trying to keep his promise. Maybe it was because he was just trying to be good. She didn't know, but it made things nice. Unusually nice. She liked it. It was easier to see the sights or look at the people roaming about below. She even got to say hello to a few guards—right before they threatened to shoot or arrest them for being on the roofs. Of course, they would never be able to keep up, or they just didn't bother to, which was fine by them. In fact, they both got amusement out of it when Ezio made some cheeky insult that she swore turned the man on duty red in the face. She didn't know the young man could be so funny and cheeky at the same time, and as such she was left laughing at his antics.

Maybe today would be good after all.

She certainly hoped so. She also hoped Ezio could be more like this—the young man who was _fun_ and not a pill. The young man who she didn't mind being around and actually _liked_ to be around—a little. Just a little. Oh, she knew it was a silly hope and wouldn't last; the young Auditore could never be rid of his "charms", but it was fun to think maybe he could.

"Let's head down here," he mused as they neared the area. She thought the building had seemed large from the _Palazzo_, but up close it was _massive_. She could scarcely believe it had been built in this era, and imagined it had taken an age to finish it. It was beautiful, though, and reminded her of why she loved the Renaissance era's art. It was just so detailed and intricate, and like nothing was put to waste; if it could be used or made greater, it was. And that was just the building.

"I see some good foot holds here," she motioned over the side of the building that led down to an alleyway. Ezio nodded, and they were soon on to the ground, out of sight of any curious eyes. Sometimes the boys didn't care all that much and even did it to show off, but other times they kept it on the down low, which she preferred.

"The _Basilica_ is just this way. You will love it. You are all 'artsy' and all," the young man snickered, and she shoved his arm lightly.

"What's that supposed to mean? But, yes, I am 'artsy', thank-you very much."

"Nothing, nothing! Just that you like… artsy things? All that frilly, boring stuff."

She scoffed, "All that frilly, boring stuff is why your clothes aren't rags, why your house is as elegant as it is, and why your city is beautiful, so don't be talking shit about artsy stuff."

"Alright, alright! Calm down—I was only kidding," he grinned, and then gave her a look. "You know, you talk very strangely sometimes. Not very lady like, either."

"I told you I'm no lady, and hey—you don't talk proper all the time, either, so don't talk to me about how to talk."

"Ah, what can I say? I fraternize with the lower classes too much and I think I may be around you too much as well—no doubt I obtained such bad speaking manners from you."

"Oh, no, no, don't you blame me. And—oh. Oh my God. Pffft, you know what? I bet you're making fun of art because I drew you with a big nose. You're still butt hurt about it!"

"I'm _what_?" Ezio laughed with an incredulous look.

"It's a saying—it means you're still upset and acting like a turd or a jerk about it."

"'Butt hurt'? I will have to remember that," he snickered, but promptly waved off her snort. "And, no, I am not still upset about that, although I did _not_ appreciate it! My nose is not that big, and it was hardly fair! You drew Federico, Petruccio, and even _Claudia_ properly!"

She smirked, "You _are_ still butt hurt! Ha! I knew it!"

"I am not! Ah, enough! You are insufferable!" he rasped, throwing up his hands and storming off. Catherine followed after him, giggling impishly until she finally grabbed at his shirt. He turned to face her, frowning in that pouty way of his. It was adorable. She somehow stifled her laughter and held up her hands for peace.

"Look, if it'll make you feel better… I'll draw a proper portrait of you. We'll sit down and you can pose how you like, and I'll draw you—nose proper and everything. Promise."

It was his turn to watch her for a while before sniffing, "My nose better not be too big."

"It won't. Now, come on—you wanted to show me the _Basilica_, right?" she grinned back, and his finally returned the expression. He held his arm for her to take, but she just waggled her finger at him, much to his amusement. He shrugged it off and led her out of the alley's opening to the wider street beside the grand structure.

Ezio was right. She did love it. She got to get up close and personal to the wall, feeling the smooth, but slightly weathered stone. The colors were so pretty, too, and if she craned her head back and shaded her eyes she could see more details higher up like the orange tiles of the dome and the pillars on the flat section. Her companion suggested a closer look—as in, climbing up, but she quickly refused that. She could climb the side of normal buildings, but there was no way she could climb this thing. She was bound to slip and fall and kill herself, and where would that leave her? Besides, she could make out the reds, greens, white, and golds just fine from the ground. She also got to see the entry to its main courtyard, though it was blocked from entry, much to her disappointment. However, she had a perfect view of the giant, open courtyard, with its large statue and fountain, grand greenery and beautiful tiles. To finish it off were the surrounding buildings of the city, some of them shops, others homes.

It was amazing, and Catherine was happy to stare at it from the bench they'd settled down on. She let her legs just splay out, leaning back against the fountain, and smiling so much her cheeks almost hurt. She watched the various groups of people go by—friends or what look like families just walking around. She saw a mother and her child, a father and his sons, a loving couple, and a group of rowdy boys no doubt going to cause some trouble. It was amazing, and though she'd been here for a few weeks now, she felt like she still hadn't really gotten to see it. She certainly never got to witness these kinds of interaction back home. Unfortunately, the difference did make her think of it, and her lips soon fell as she recalled her hometown. Generally she just stayed at the house, but she would see faces on her jogging path. However, it wasn't anything as grand as the scene before her, yet she missed it still.

Sighing softly, Catherine pulled the Clock from her pocket and let it lie on her hand and against her thigh, rubbing at the surface. As always she wished it would do _something_—give her some kind of hint. She _knew_ it had power, and yet it seemed so empty now. She almost began to think it had all been a dream, but it couldn't be. She was from the future. _That_ was not an illusion. She knew who she was and where she was from, and she wished it could just be over.

"I did not know you had a watch," Ezio spoke up suddenly and she looked over quickly in surprise. Well, shit. She hadn't meant for anyone else to see it.

"Ah, yeah. I've, uh, had it for a while," she explained, showing it to him before pushing it back towards her pocket. He leaned over her, though, forcing her to move her arm away, far beyond his reach. He gave her a pout.

"I just want to see it."

"You just did—I showed it to you."

"I want to look at it properly."

"And I'm saying 'no'."

He raised a brow smirking, "Just what are you hiding, Catherine?"

"Nothing. I'm _holding_ something out of your reach."

"Catherine, come on, I just want to look at it!" he laughed as he reached more, but she stood up suddenly. The movement almost made him fall over, but he caught himself and made another grab. She knew he was just messing around, but he was the last person she needed finding out about the Piece of Eden. His father had insisted he not know anything about it or the Assassins, and so she didn't need him to start asking any questions.

"It's none of your business!" she snapped back, but she couldn't help smiling a little as she played keep away; ducking and dancing out of is reach. He laughed at her antics and kept at it, both of them enjoying it despite the "argument" they were having. She continued to stay out of his reach for a little longer, before spinning, and stepping away much further, much to his disappointment. He slumped some, his pout back, to which she just smirked. She rolled it a bit in her palm, showing of the prize. "I told you don't get to see it."

Ezio made an "uh-huh" look, apparently finally about to give up. Relieved, she made to put it back into her pocket, but ended up stumbling forward when a heavy force knocked into her. She flailed to regain her balance, and with Ezio's catching her, she was able to steady her legs. She realized instantly that the Clock was no longer in her hands, and frantically looked for it. It only took a moment to see it on the ground, but then a man picked it up. He looked like a poor sod with how tattered his clothes were and the wraps on his arms and legs—essentially someone up to no good, and he wasn't. With a smirk flashed at her, the man suddenly took off at a sprint.

Her panic soared, "No!"

"Catherine!"

The redhead ignored Ezio's calls as she tore after the man. God, how could she be so careless!? She should have just kept the stupid thing in her pocket and now it was stolen. Her one ticket home was gone. Some petty thief had taken it was and was going to pawn it off for some gold and she was never going to get it back and she was never going to go home! Curses spewed from her mouth as she tried to keep up, but the bastard was fast and he'd had some distance between them starting out. He was just too quick, and it seemed like he was just getting farther and farther away. She was going to lose him, and everything was going to hell!

"No, nonononno-!" she cried as the thief rounded the corner, out of her sight. She took a tight turn around it, almost tripping and falling, but somehow kept her balance. Despite her efforts, though, the thief wasn't there. She couldn't see him. He was _gone_. Her fingers went through her hair, her throat and chest constricting. This couldn't be happening. God, it just couldn't. How could it!?

"Excuse me," a voice called out and a hand gently touched her shoulder. She jumped at once, turning to find an older man standing there, grinning slightly as he held out something in his hand—her Clock. She gasped and snatched it back at once. He chuckled lightly, "I take it the trinket is yours?"

She nodded as she looked at him. At first glance he might seem a little unusual—fishy even. He wore a brown hood with a cape attached, which not many people did unless it was raining or hiding their face. He layered it over garbs of orange and yellow, including fairly tight pants with slightly tattered boots. He was an older man, too; there were wrinkles in his features, but he carried himself so lightly he could pull off being much younger. His eyes were unusually light for an Italian, as was his skin, and though she felt a bit uneasy, his voice was rather enthralling—charming, even. That, and he had returned her Clock, so it would have been rude of her to suspect him.

"Ah—yes. Thank-you—thank-you so much!" she replied at last, flushing a bit as she bowed her head. "How did you…?"

"I know a thief running away with his prize when I see one, and I simply could not allow him to get away with. I am glad I accosted him—it would have been a terrible thing for a lovely lady to lose her prized possession… although perhaps you should keep a better hold of it, my dear," he chuckled as he bowed his head as well. "I must take my leave now. It was wonderful to meet you."

"Uh, yeah, you, too, uh—."

"Catherine!"

The redhead turned sharply as she heard Ezio's and saw him jogging towards her. She showed her Clock with a relieved smile and turned back to bid her savior good-bye, but he had vanished. She blinked, surprised, and looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She still mumbled a quiet "thank-you" before Ezio reached her, grasping her shoulders.

"What happened? Are you alright. Shit, I'm sorry, Catherine—if I had not been trying to grab it… I did not realize it was so important to you—I'm sorry."

She shook her head, her smile a bit smaller, "It's okay. I have it back, and it's not your fault. I should have been more careful, and it's like you said—you didn't know."

"Still, I am sorry," he frowned, but she waved him off as she made sure to put the Clock into her pocket. He glanced around as she did so, and his expression became puzzled. "How did you get it back, anyways?"

"As it so happens, a Good Samaritan caught the thief and gave it back. He left before you got here. Geez that was way to close. Remind me to never take it out my pocket again," she sighed, shaking her head.

Ezio managed to grin just a little, "I am glad he was able to help… why is it so important to you, anyways? I have never seen you use it to actually check the time."

"Well, that's because it's actually broken," she stated, kicking her foot at the ground. "It's a gift from my father, though, so it means a lot. I don't know where he got it, but he said he had it when he was a boy, given to him by his father. And, well, I'm not a boy, but I am his only child sooo…"

"A memento, then—I have much the same. This pendant," the young man replied before reaching beneath his vest and pulling out a necklace with a golden, circular ornament. The front was decorated with an "A" surrounded by intricate metal-work and a large, ruby gem on the front. When it turned slightly, she could see the cross shape on the back. He let her hold it, turning it this way and that. "It is my family's crest. My father received it from his father and so forth as well. Luckily I have not lost it, although I imagine it is because it is a necklace… perhaps you should get a loop for your Clock?"

"I would, but there's no place to put the loop through. I may just have Annetta fix my pocket some so it can't ever fall out. Your crest is beautiful, by the way."

"Thank-you," he chuckled as he put it away, safe beneath his vest. He glanced up at the sky briefly before rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "If… well, if I have not ruined the day for you, there is still much of the city to see. I will be happy to continue showing you around, but I understand if you wish to go back now. I admit I am surprised you don't want to hit me yet."

"I only hit you when you try you flirt badly or you're being a turd, remember? And I told you—it wasn't your fault. So, go on. Lead the way. Show me something else fun," she grinned, folding her arms over her chest expectantly. He gave her what she supposed was a surprised look, but then laughed and told her to follow him.

They stuck to the streets this time, and she didn't mind. It was nice to get to see the sights from ground level rather than above, and once again Ezio behaved. Well, mostly. He couldn't help getting back into his ways, but it was more reigned in—rather than constantly moseying up to her and trying to throw himself onto her, he made small, cheeky comments. Just small teases or playful jabs and messing around. Of course, if he _did_ try to go a little too far, she would promptly give that light smack of hers and he would back off like a naughty child. She never told him she'd had enough, though, and she honestly hadn't. No, it was a lot of fun to walk the streets and view the sighs with him, and she was extra glad for it. It kept the worry about what would happen if she _did _really lose her Clock out of her mind. All led to terrible, awful things, and so she did her best to focus on what silly thing Ezio was doing.

Thankfully, that wasn't all that hard to do. Despite her first impressions, the young man _was_ actually kind of charming—when he wasn't trying to get into her pants, anyways. Oh, she knew he could be fun already, but this was different. She didn't have Federico to talk with either, so it was just them, and yet she couldn't help laughing and smiling a lot. His expressions were just funny and it was adorable how he really was like a puppy. It was even better when they got into little "fights", and they ended up saying something so stupid that they could only laugh even more at the sheer ridiculousness of it. _That_ was something she'd been missing for a long time now.

"Okay, okay, so I have to know," she began as she finished the last of the bread they'd just bought. The young man raised a brow, encouraging her to go on as he chewed on his. "Where the hell has _this_ Ezio been?"

"Whaf do you mehn?" he inquired back, about to put on his mock-hurt face.

"Y'know—acting like this. Actually _fun_ and not a turd. Honestly, if I'd known you could be _fun_ I would have wanted to have a day off with you sooner."

He finally swallowed and huffed, "I am always this fun! I told you I was! You simply refused to believe me."

"Dude, Ezio—you've spent most the time around me trying to flirt your way into a bed with me. That's hardly fun."

"Tell that to all the other ladies of _Firenze_—ow!" he laughed when she back-hand smacked his chest. "Jeez, what is with you and smacking?"

"_Justice_," she sang. "For all the ladies of _Firenze_ that you've fooled. Oh, don't give me that look. I don't know how, but you've somehow managed to get a lot of women to sleep with you."

"Is it really so hard to believe that I might have charms?"

"Then why haven't I fallen for them, hmm?"

He leaned close to grasp her jaw gently with a wink, "How do I know you haven't and are just playing hard to get?"

"Because I have a foot and it's ready to kick you in the groin," she snorted, pulling her chin free. "Don't ruin the moment, Ezio. You're way better when you're not being lousy."

"Ah, I just can't figure you out sometimes, Catherine. Most women would at least _chuckle_ at my attempts to woo them, but you only rebuff them, but when I act normal, you like it? You are very confusing! It makes it hard to get you to like me," he laughed lightly.

"Who says I _want_ to like you?" she scoffed. "But if you must know, it's because I'd want to be with a guy who I can have fun with. If I'm going to live him with the rest of my life, I better be able to have fun—and not just with sex, mind you."

"You are a very strange woman. Perhaps I _will_ have to give up on wooing you," Ezio snickered, scarfing down the final bite of his bread.

"Good."

"What? You don't want to fall in love with a handsome young man like me?"

"Please. Falling in love is dangerous. Not to mention I'm not even going to be here that long, and I don't do long distance relationships. I know you can't, either—you'd go find some woman to mess around with behind my back while I'm in England," she huffed, lifting her nose at him.

He winced sheepishly "Do you really think so poorly of me? I assure you I would be loyal to the woman I fell in love with. And what do you mean it's dangerous? Falling in love is wonderful!"

"Have you ever been in love, Ezio?" Catherine asked, looking him dead in the eye. He met her gaze, holding it for a while, but ultimately replied he hadn't—not really. She just nodded to herself and looked away, but he kept watching her for a bit longer. He said nothing, though, and she ended up sighing a moment later. "Like I said—even if you did somehow charm me, I'm not going to be here much longer, I figure."

"Your father will be back soon?"

She paused, "Well… maybe. He… um… hasn't written or anything—he never wrote much while on business anyways… but it shouldn't be much longer. I don't think."

"Father may know. Yours is a banker like him, no?"

"Yeah. I guess I'll have to ask," she shrugged.

"You miss him?"

"Yeah. Feels like it's been forever since I saw him," she chuckled, and didn't dare show the sinking feeling in her gut. She couldn't quite place it really. It was a mix of guilt and sadness, but mostly guilt, she figured. Thankfully, if there was one thing she was good at it, it was brushing off those darker feelings. "Anyways, I still plan to make the most out of my time here. With any luck, I'll have an extra week or two."

"Oh? What is this—not so eager to leave after all? Can't stand to be away from a certain, handsome young man?" he snickered, and she shoved him away playfully.

"Yeah, no. More like I just really think it's pretty here and I like touring the city with a certain obnoxious young man's _extremely_ handsome older brother who has infinitely better charm and wit."

"Ah-ha! That explains it—you are in love with my brother! Damn. How is it he is always better at getting women?" Ezio grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

Catherine slapped a hand to her face, "For the love of—please tell me you're joking. I'm hardly in love with Federico. Yeah, he has way better charm and he's a gentleman, but I'm not falling for him. I'm not falling for _anybody_ here, alright? Now stop asking about it, jeez. You're worse than a gossiping woman!"

"Alright, alright. I'll stop—for now," he smirked and laughed some more when the redhead groaned aloud. He paused, though, as he saw a familiar face. He tapped Catherine's arm lightly, pointing at them. "Look—it is Vieri."

"Huh? Really? Should we run?" she inquired, peering through the crowd. Sure enough, the weasel was walking with two others, and, as usual, he had that arrogant scowl on his face. He also happened to look their way and notice them. She glanced to her companion. "Ezio?"

He just waved off her concern as he stood, "No… no, he's only got two men with him. We will be fine. Just play along."

Catherine thought he was crazy. He probably was, but what the hell? If he thought it was okay, then maybe it was. They could just run if they needed to, right? At least Vieri didn't look as overconfident as before, and he also didn't have a knife. He was pissed, though, which was kind of funny.

"Well, well, finally come out of your hole, dog?" Vieri sneered and looked over at the redhead. "I see you have brought along your whore again. She must fuck well."

"Oh yeah, definitely—let me just fuck up your face real good again, asshole," she snapped back, and the man snarled an obscenity her way before Ezio stepped forward, grinning impishly.

"Come now, Vieri, that is not a very nice thing to say to a lady. You will never get one if that is how you court. Of course, once they see what you have to offer… well, it is no wonder they come running to me," he winked. Behind him, Catherine rolled her eyes, but let the young man have his thing while she held her hands on her hips. She kept watch of the two goons, but they seemed content to stay back. She didn't recognize them, but they probably remembered what their boss's face had looked like after she'd punched it. She hoped that would be enough to keep them at bay. She also kind of hoped she could do it again even if it had hurt her knuckles.

"You Auditore's are always all talk. When it gets tough you always go running with your tail between your legs!"

"You mean like you did last time, right?" Catherine snorted, and she was given an icy glare.

"What is this? You let your whores do all the talking for you?" he laughed haughtily. Again, the redhead had to roll her eyes. What was with men?

"What can I say? I like to hear the sounds a woman makes. You should have heard your sister last night!" the young man smirked right on back, and even before Vieri's face changed to a furious snarl, Ezio had grabbed Catherine's arm and turned away.

"You bastard! I will kill you!"

Except they were already running, the young Auditore holding her arm tight to make sure she kept up until they dove into an alley. He climbed up and once, and she didn't hesitate—not with the Vieri boy hot on their heels. Federico hadn't been lying about his men not being able to climb, though. They were not followed as they scaled the building. They _were_ assaulted by rocks and sticks and whatever the assholes could pick up, however. She heard Ezio curse as something hit him, and she let out an annoyed "ow" when she felt some hard object smack into her back. Once over the edge, though, they were free of the throwing as they ran away. They didn't go too far—just enough to no longer hear or see Vieri and his men. Only then did they stop, and both laughed. Ezio was the loudest, though; quite pleased with himself.

"I better not have a bruise on my back, or I'm going to add to the one you got climbing," she grumbled after she realized her did feel a bit sore now. She rubbed at the middle gently, and wished she'd gotten to throw something back at the goons.

"Sorry!" the young man snickered. "But you have to admit that was fun."

"Pfffft…. Okay, yeah, yeah, it was fun. Vieri is fun to insult and make mad, but next time let's run further away so they can't throw stupid crap at us."

He winked, "As you wish, my lady."

"Don't call me that. Anyways. So. Think it's safe to walk around or do we have to watch out for that little shit?"

"Hmm… we should be alright, and we can always climb back up again. He never follows for too long—not over a tiny thing like that. We'll head down for now. I think I saw a way…ah! Here we are."

Catherine frowned, "Really? I swore there weren't any goo—oh my God! Ezio!"

The redhead had looked to see what he was doing just in time to watch the young man jump—as in fucking _swan dive_—off the roof. She sprinted over at once, thinking he was insane and trying to kill himself, but then stared in disbelief when he popped up out of a haystack, grinning like a fool. Thankfully no one was around to see his stunt or the face she gave him when he started laughing and gestured for her to do the same.

"Hurry up! Just jump right in!"

"Are you fucking insane?" she asked back calmly, and he rolled his eyes.

"It's perfectly normal! Just jump up and then flip in mid-air so that you land in the haystack on your back—it's very simple and you will not be hurt!"

"Oh, hmm, yes, it just sounds _so _easy. Yeah. No. There is no way in hell I am doing that."

"Catherine—."

"Nope. Nope. No. No way. Nuh-uh. I don't know how you lived just now, but I am not that amazing when it comes to jumping. Sooo I think I'm going to take up that promise where if I don't like what you're doing I do my own thing…"

"Wha—oh, come on, Catherine, wait! Wait, wait, wait! I am coming back up! Calm down," the young man sighed with exasperation and was back with her on the roof in a matter of seconds. He held out his arms. "Better?"

"Yes," she huffed haughtily before looking over the edge at the cart. The hay was all pushed around now, and some was even out on the side. "Jesus, how the hell did you even do that? I mean, wouldn't that hur—"

She never got to finish her sentence as, once again, a heavy force knocked into her. Only, this time she lost more than just her balance. Rather, she lost her footing entirely and fell off a roof. She wasn't alone, of course; no, a pair of arms were wrapped tight around her waist, keeping her close to a chest that belonged to someone who she was going to kill. Assuming she survived, which her cursing might make one think she wouldn't.

However, by some miracle, they hit they haystack, which didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. Hay was evidently magical, although it was very pointy and scratchy, but that was hardly her biggest concern as she quickly scrambled out of the haystack. She promptly turned to face the cart from which a loud, vile laughter was coming from. Ezio, of course, found it hilarious, and was all too proud of his work as he sat there in the hay, the straw all stuffed into his vest and hair now.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

Catherine just shoved him right back in none-too-kindly, but he kept laughing anyways, and quickly followed after her since she had stormed off.

"I swear if I didn't think your father would kill me I would throttle you right now!" she snapped, charging forward so he had to trot to keep up.

"It was just a bit of fun—and I told you it would be alright! You know I would not do something that would bring harm to you!"

"You don't just tackle people off a roof into a haystack!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Come on—don't tell me that was not even a little bit of fun. You got a thrill, no?" he smirked right back, so sure of himself.

She folded her arms, scowling, "No. It wasn't."

He folded his arms right back, "Oh?"

"It wasn't. Could have died, you jerk."

"I would not have let you hurt yourself, Catherine, but if you really are mad—I am sorry. Feel free to do what you like. Hit me, throttle me; I am yours to deal with as you please."

"And I will—later," she replied swiftly, and he had to pause.

"Wait—you are… not going to do it right now?"

"Nope. You're going to just have to wait and watch out because it'll come when you least expect it, so you better be on your toes, buster."

"Why must you be so cruel?" he chuckled, starting to work some of the straw from his clothes and hair.

"You tackled me off a _roof_. Now shut up and let's head back to the market. I want to get those supplies. You're paying by the way."

"Aren't I already going to pay for my stunt?" he inquired, brow raised. She finally slowed down to let him keep up better. She considered giving him another one of her "looks", but refrained and just looked ahead.

"You're still going to pay. You owe me for all the terrible flirting."

"That is _hardly_ a reason, but, alright. I would not be much of a man if I let a lady pay."

She just smirked, "Good boy. Now what's the best way back to the market from here?"

"Hmm," he rumbled, glancing about, and focused on the river-side street not far away. He gestured towards it. "Along the river will do. It is a good view as well."

"I haven't been to the river much. Yeah, that sounds good," she smiled with a nod. Ezio smiled back, no doubt thinking he'd appeased her some. Please. There was no way in hell she'd be placated so easily. Oh, no. No, she did not forget, and she already had a plan forming. Thankfully she was more than able to keep her more sinister expression under control—at least until it was time.

"You do know I would not have done that if I thought you would be hurt, right?" the young man asked after they started to walk, strolling by the edge of the bricks. She was on the inside, so she just had to glance up to see he actually was a little sorry about his actions.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I'm okay with it… but I know you wouldn't. I know you're actually an okay guy," she chuckled softly.

"Well, I am glad you think so. I would not like a beautiful lady thinking poorly me."

"Aaaaand you ruined it. Why must you always ruin it, Ezio?" she sighed, shaking her head.

"How is does calling you beautiful ruin it? Most women take that as a compliment you know."

She brushed some stray straw off her arms, "Most women don't know you've been with about a hundred other women before them."

"I have not been with _that_ many," he mused by wryly, but she was hardly soothed. "Alright, alright—but can you not just take a compliment for once?"

"Maybe when you're sincere about it," she hummed back.

"But I am always sincere about it," he pouted.

She just shook her head, chuckling, "Uh-huh."

The redhead didn't get far before a hand grasped her arm, stopping her, and turned her towards him. He was looking at her a bit differently than he usually did, but she ignored that in favor of the fact they were near an open ledge—one right over water. It looked deep enough by the fact there was a small gondola tight there, so it should be alright. She looked back the young man, waiting for him to speak.

"Why is it so hard to believe I mean it?" he huffed, folding his arms.

"It's not necessarily you—okay, it is kind of you… but I tend to not trust compliments from people who are overly flirtatious. Kind of a little rule I have."

"You are making this difficult, you know," Ezio sighed as his shoulders slumped, albeit with a grin.

"You wouldn't have much as much fun if I didn't right?" she snorted, and he chuckled right back.

"No I suppose not. Well, know I do not give up so easily—I will get you to like me yet," he winked, and she just rolled her eyes.

"And I'm going to laugh when you give up or finally get board of it."

He waggled an eyebrow, "We will see later. For now… shall we move on?"

"Yeah, sure," Catherine hummed, and then suddenly smirked. She briefly caught glimpse of Ezio catching on—the widening of his eyes—but it was too lately. Assured of her victory, she shoved him as hard as she could, and was ready to cheer victoriously when she saw him falling over the edge. However, her plans subsequently faltered when his hands latch onto her sleeve. There was no way she could hold him up along with herself and so her scheme only worked so far in that she did get to shove him into the river as payback. She wasn't supposed to go with him, though, and she certainly wasn't supposed to splash down into the dark water and come up with a gasp, treading it.

"_That_ was your pay back!?" Ezio exclaimed, but he was laughing anyways.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to fall in, too. You kind of messed that up," she mused and looked beyond him to where a wooden platform had been built. "Well, I have my payback so let's get going."

"Wait—that's it?" he asked as he swam back with her.

"I mean, yeah? You tackled me off the roof into a haystack. I shoved you off the ledge into the river."

"You are a very strange woman."

"You've said that already," she snickered as she reached the pier and hauled herself up. She groaned at how heavy she felt now; her clothes soaked and every other part of her dripping. She also smelled a bit now. He did, too, which only made it worse. She frowned. "Your mother is probably going to be mad."

"Ah… yes… yes she is…"

She glanced at him, "Should we still head back?"

"I _would_ say no, but… we probably should."

"Do you think we could sneak in without her noticing and change?"

He winced, "No, most likely not."

"Figures. Well… let's go face the fire then shall we?" she hummed, and Ezio reluctantly agreed.

**-O-**

The second born Auditore had been right—they weren't able to slip by Maria Auditore. She saw them almost the moment they'd gotten back, still soaking and smelling like the river. She hadn't said anything, though. Rather, when her son tried to speak she held up her hand, stopping him. She remained silent as she gave him a serious look, and then left. Catherine dreaded for their safety when they exchanged a glance, agreed they needed to bathe, change before dinner, and to be on their best behavior, and then went their separate ways.

She was all too happy to do just that—especially when she smelled a lot better after and was back in dry clothes. Her Clock had thankfully been undamaged in their antics, and she wasn't scraped up besides the small bruise on her back. Of course, that was nothing compared to the mental anguish the two of them suffered through dinner. Though, Maria retained her silence throughout the whole thing, they knew they were in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. At least the others didn't seem to mind, or they just knew better than to ask. She imagined they would later, but they were left alone to eat and also during their time in the parlor. She was glad for it—she wasn't sure how explaining what happened would go telling them they'd been messing around a lot more than usual and such. Well, Petruccio and Federico would probably get a hoot out of it, but everyone else? Not so much.

She was just so glad to head back upstairs to bed, even if did mean spending countless hours awake trying to fall asleep. Admittedly, she _was_ tired, but her stupid anxieties always came pouring back about now. At least she could mull on how she actually had a good day. _That_ she couldn't deny, and so when she headed out to start reading she wasn't so surprised or put off by Ezio being there. She even gave him a smile and wave as she reached the bookshelf. She was surprised, however, when he popped up beside her, grinning cheekily as he usually did.

"If you're not too tired, there is one more part to your day off I had planned."

She raised a brow, "There's _more_?"

"Yes, come on," he snickered and led her to a window. A quick push and it was open, revealing the night time cityscape. However, he didn't stop there; he hopped onto the sill and then pulled himself onto the room. There he lay flat and held his hand out for her. She raised a brow, but took it anyways and then they were sitting on the roof, legs dangling over the edge.

She could see a great deal of the city from here, and it was beautiful at night. Torches lit the streets and candles the inside of houses, making it seem as though tiny little lights decorated the entire place. It was almost like a reflection of the sky. The moon was full tonight, and it was an essentially cloudless sky. Stars dotted the dark canvas, and there were so many more than she could remember seeing ever. She had a decent view back home even with light pollution, but this was something much more amazing.

"So. The roof," she mused, looking over at the Ezio, who was smiling—pleased with himself. She had to admit he should be.

"Indeed. I used to come up here a great deal as a child when I wanted to get away from things. I thought you could use the same," he replied, and she looked back out at the city. Well, that confirmed he had been worried about her own night time endeavors then. She wasn't sure what to make of it, and so didn't look at him as he continued. "I know it is not my place to ask, but… are you alright? I thought perhaps you did just stay up late, but…"

"Actually, I don't. I just… reasons. I can't seem to sleep," she laughed lightly, but it was forced, and she knew he knew it.

"If you do not want to say so, it is alright. I mostly came up here to think and watch the city, so I thought it might help you" he explained. She couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt. She knew he was only trying to be nice. She supposed she owed him a little.

Sighing, she pulled her knees up to her chest, "I think… I think I'm just home sick… and… um… I don't know. Just… overwhelmed."

"That is nothing to be ashamed of. I would miss _Firenze_ and my family very dearly if I was sent away suddenly. And new places are always overwhelming… Unless… that is not it?"

'_No, no it's not… not by a long shot, but you don't need to know that,'_ Catherine mused before letting out another, smaller sigh. "Let's just say it's tough trying to live up to people's expectations. I really want to, but it can be tough. I get stuck, and I don't know how to get un-stuck."

Ezio hummed softly, lounging back on his arms, "Well… perhaps you should stop trying to?"

"Oh, I would love to do that, but I can't really—not right now," she chuckled pitifully. She glanced over and noticed his confusion. "Sorry, I can't really say much else on it. I would if I could, but…"

"It is alright. I admit, I am a little disappointed, but what is a woman without her secrets?" he chuckled back, and she finally managed to smile. "Again, it is alright if you do not wish to tell me, and if it helps… you do not need to live up to any expectations with me—not here. Will that help?"

"Maybe. A little. I'll be back at it tomorrow, though."

He shifted to face her better, "Then come out here tomorrow. You can be alone if you want, or you can speak with me if you wish."

"You know… that might not be a bad idea… which is weird—usually your ideas aren't so good. I almost feel like you're trying to trick me," she hummed, giving him a look. He just grinned back.

"I assure you—no tricks," he replied, bowing his head. "In fact… what was your life like back home? What kind of place did you live in?"

"You honestly want to know? Really?"

"Well, then what would you like to talk about?"

"Do you know how stubborn you are?" she inquired, but let her legs fall over the side of the roof again and leaned back like how he was. She smiled once more as she looked out at the city and then up at the sky. Ezio kept quiet as he waited, and for the second time that day she wondered where _this_ Ezio had been; this nice, caring, non-flirtatious guy. He was actually charming now. In fact, she realized she kind of wanted to talk to him—so she did. "If you must know… it was a good house—two stories, plenty of rooms. I had them pretty much all to myself except for, uh… the servants. They lived in another house, though. I did have my dogs. Three until one died about a year ago—she was really old. One of the other ones is old, too, but my dog—Bandit, he's young and playful."

"Huh. I did not figure you for a dog person, 'kitty-Cat'," he snickered, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Want me to push you off this roof?" she snapped playfully, and he held up his hands in defense. "Uh-huh. Thought so. Anyways, I was mostly alone with the servants, so they were my friends, too. Got to be as boyish as I wanted. Drew and read and all that a lot. Pretty boring, actually. Not much to say."

"Now _that_ I know is a lie. No woman who acts like you has a boring upbringing."

She snorted, "You're being too obvious about buttering me up. But alright, alright… I guess I can tell you about how I accidentally made my dad fall of his horse—_not_ entirely my fault. Don't give me that look. It was partially the horse's…"

Catherine kept on talking then, reminiscing about her life back home, and though it made her wish she was there, it actually felt good to talk about it. Of course, she had to be a little careful about what she said, but it wasn't hard to work with it. She was creative enough, and she had a feeling Ezio didn't really care all that much about what she said—he was just letting her talk so she would feel better, and she was grateful for that. She was also grateful for how it made her feel more and more tired the longer she talked. Certainly, yawn after yawn came not long after she started talking and sharing jokes or pushing him playfully. Her eyes would droop or even close every once in a while. It was a little weird, but it was nice, too. For once, she didn't think she'd be staying up so late.

Sure enough, she never even realized when she fell asleep.

* * *

**09 **\- End

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**TMWolf: **_And, yes, Ezio DID carry her back to her room like a gentleman :) He is a good boy..._

_SO! Hope you guys enjoyed this lovely little chapter. And, yes, this was totally a chapter to get them closer and more friendly, and you know it worked tee hee. Also, it's a big step for Catherine, who really needed this. Oh, and now you guys know what all those night chats with Ezio have led up to ;) He's not always thinking about sex, the naughty boy hehehehe. But yeah, so a lot of fun time for 'Cat today, but it'l be back to business tomorrow... and for the rest of the week. Yup! We got about a week time skip coming up and some crazy shit WILL be going down. Also, Act I is just about complete-I write a few chapters ahead and it's just about done. Then we start getting into the game and worse crap goes down, ha haha._

_Also, cue hints this chapter about Cat's past lol I'm just terrible aren't I, revealing not much of anything about her, huh? :L *scuttles away*_

_Anyways... I think that's about it. Any questions/comments/critique/errors, feel free to review and let me know! :D_

_P.S. If you caught on to who the mystery cameo was, kudos to you! xD_


	11. Home In Florence

**TMWolf: **_Aaaand update time, guys! Sooo keep mind of the date, because NINE days have gone by! Yep, quite a time skip compared to usual, and a good bit has happened and a lot more is to come, but we're also starting to wind down Act I! Yep. Thirteen chapters for Act I and I've already started Act II. Between then and now, though, some crazy stuff is going to go down. For now, enjoy some happiness this chapter and a lot of Petruccio! :D_

_As usual, how I write the Auditores and others is how I have come to interpret them based off canon/game/movie/books/wiki/etc._

_Now for reviews for my lovely anon(s)!_

**_Squid:_**_ Yeeeah, Ezio can be quite the gentleman sometimes ;) And yay! Glad you're loving it! I hope you'll continue to do so!_

_This chapter brought to you by the AC II soundtrack again-Home in Florence! It just fit so well, ha ha._

_Right. So. Not much else to say, so sit back, get comfy, and enjoy this chapter!_

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**10** – _Home In Florence_

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**July 30, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Applying a few more brush strokes, Catherine leaned back in her seat and took a look at what she had created. It was a small canvas—not much bigger than a regular piece of paper—and on it she had made an attempt to recreate the painting that was set up next to her. It was a young lady with a dog at her side and baby in her arms set against a background with lush green fields and a well-made structure. It was one of Leonardo's, and while she felt weird copying a painting, he had insisted in order for her to "test" her skills with oil and tempura. She has worked with oil and acrylic, but tempura she didn't ever recall using. Regardless, she ended up using the oil paints and had technically started yesterday, but only now got the woman in her attempt to look somewhat similar to the artist's.

"Well, I guess I'm not terrible?" she chuckled, noting how she wasn't nearly as capable of capturing the life-like quality. Now, if this had been on her laptop she probably could have done a lot better. She supposed it wasn't _that_ bad, but Leonardo was just on a whole other level, and it showed. Then again, it would show with anyone.

"You said you had not practiced much with oils, no? You do much better than most novices who have been trying to use it for a while," Leonardo smiled as he looked over her shoulder. He gestured to the painting. "You are simply… lacking in terms of the colors and brush technique. That is all. You need only to refine your strokes and blend your colors better."

She rolled her eyes, grinning, "The _Master_ makes it sound so easy."

"Oh, but it is not that difficult, I assure you. Already you are on your way. Just keep at it."

"Leo, I'm beginning to think you're quite desperate for a friend who loves art as much as you do," Catherine hummed, turning around to point her brush at him. He smiled cheekily.

"Am I so easy to discern?" he chuckled, holding out his hands. "Can you blame me, though? It is no easy to find someone like yourself—one who shares a love for art and science and inventing and _knowledge_!"

"Well, it might help if you went _outside_. Based on the mess in here, I'd say you haven't fooor… a few days now," she snickered in reply, looking around the place, which was, in fact, a mess. Canvases were practically everywhere, as were chairs and papers, and little models of inventions he had in mind. Glasses and wine bottles were here and there, and there were things of paint and brushes and drawing tools scattered across the floor. His fire place was also chock full of ashes She didn't dare look in his room—she could only imagine his bed was just as much of a mess. His "other work" room was definitely in disarray, and all she had to do was glance in at cluster of drawn diagram of bodies and the bloodied tools and sheets. The last one might have disturbed others, but she saw no issue with it—the people were dead, after all, and his drawings would lead to a lot of discoveries far beyond his time. She would never dream of interfering. Except, that is, for the putrid smell. He'd had one body too long once, and it had _not_ been a pleasant visit despite his profuse apologizing.

"Hmm… well, ah… I, ah… I _may _have been here, ah… a little too long," Leonardo rumbled, looking around his workshop awkwardly. "But—but I _have_ been busy…"

"Oh, yes, I can tell by all the half-finished paintings," Catherine cheekily as she set her paint brush and pallet down to turn around in her seat and lean over the back.

Leonardo managed to smile awkwardly, "You are astute as always, although I admit I wish you were not right now."

"Oh, I bet, but _somebody_ has to keep you on track so you can keep earning money," she snorted back. "What has you so occupied this time?"

"Hmm? Oh, well, just study of the human form, really. I've always been fascinated by it," he replied, motioning to his desk. She raised a curious brow before abandoning her canvas to come over to the desk where he showed her a bundle of papers. On them were a great deal of sketches of various parts of the body; faces of all ages, muscular torsos, toned arms, sculpted legs, and a full body of one man. Actually, all of them were of the male form, and most were quite young except for a few of the heads. She couldn't help grinning a little as she gave her friend a wry look.

"I take it no women wanted to pose nude for you?"

"Well, ah, that is one reason, but I simply find the male form far superior to study—no offense, of course. The female body just does not hold as much interest."

"Frankly, I find the male form _far _more interesting than the female as well," Catherine laughed, and expected the painter to do so as well. However, when she looked to her silent companion she found discomfort rather than amusement. Certainly there was worry, and she didn't really understand why. It had just been a joke, and she knew the artist had been thought to have been gay so why?

The redhead mentally groaned and slapped herself as she remembered _exactly_ why. Homosexuality was frowned upon during this time by society, although not too much was done about it—not yet. Leonardo had mentioned he'd had to deal with the authorities for some "incident", and though he had never mentioned _why_, she'd suspected it had been some accusation against him. However, she'd only thought it might have been a jealous compatriot trying to ruin him, not about homosexuality. Thankfully, the accusations had been dropped thanks to some involvement of outside source, so Leonardo had said it was nothing to worry about. Yet here she was inadvertently bringing it back up, and being so careless; not even considering he would still be upset by it. How could he not? Punishments could be so harsh here and it could have ruined his art—his life!

"Oh my God—Leo, no! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean anything by that!" she began, reaching over to grab his arm.

He waved her off, but his smile was forced, "No, no—it is alright. I was just thinking about something else. No need to worry."

"No, Leonardo, I'm _so _sorry. I should have figured it out by now—I'm so, so sorry. I swear I didn't mean any harm by it. I honestly don't care what your preferences are. I promise. It doesn't bug me, and I would never say anything. Hell, if you need to, just say I'm your whore or something—or—or I don't know. But if someone tries to do anything, the least I can do is be an excuse for you or a way to get them off your back," Catherine continued, hoping she hadn't ruined the man's opinion of her. It may have only been a few weeks now, but she felt she had a true friend in the artist, and she knew he considered her a friend, too, or she was pretty sure he did. They'd enjoyed every day she was able to spend in his place, which wasn't nearly as long as she wanted. It would be for hours at a time, though, and there was never a moment they didn't get along. She knew others had seen her come and go, so the idea could work, although really it was to make up for her blunder and hopefully make him see she honestly did mean absolutely _nothing_ by it. She didn't care what his preferences were and would never consider outing him.

The artist sighed, but touched her hand with a more genuine smile, "Forgive me. I know you only meant well. I… the wound is still fresh, if you will. I am quick to react even though you jest. And… I thank-you, for your offer. I do not think—and certainly I do not hope—I will have to use it. I would never wish nor want or like to call you a whore—you are far from it, and you are my friend."

"Still, it's there if you need it. I would hate for some asshole to try and disgrace you just because they're jealous or spiteful or something."

"As would I, but I truly dislike confrontation. I would avoid it entirely if I could," he sighed, shaking his head, and then started to organize his desk some. She helped him, going to the other side, and putting what she saw were alike with each other.

"If only the rest of the world though the same, then things might be easier. Although I can never agree with your views on meat. I still say you're missing out, and technically chicken and cows are bred to be eaten," Catherine chuckled, hoping to change the mood some and get far away from where they had been moments before.

He rolled his eyes, but he grinned, "Perhaps, but I simply can take no joy in it when man harms the beasts they do not cultivate to place upon their plate."

"Okay, now that I can understand. I would definitely punch a man for kicking a defenseless dog or even a chicken. People shouldn't harm animals unless it's maybe for self-defense. It's disgusting, really. It's like a grown man harming a child," she rumbled, shaking her head.

"My thoughts exactly… and ah, thank-you. At least my desk looks respectable, no?" Leonardo hummed with amusement as he took the pile she'd made and put it on a corner with the others. She just chuckled and nodded, but then paused when she heard his personal clock chime. She turned to look up at the unique contraption and noted the hour hand sat at three.

"Jesus—it's three already?" she mused and then turned to look at her friend apologetically. "Sorry, but I promised Petruccio that I would spend time with him today! I haven't gotten to spend much, so he's been really eager about it!"

Leonardo waved off her apology, "Worry not; I have you kept you long enough here. Go ahead and return to the Auditore's. I will clean up."

"Thank-you, Leo!" she grinned as she trotted around the table and gave him a quick hug. He laughed, returning a few pats and then ushered her off. She waved while hurrying out of the workshop, and then jogged through the streets. Any looks sent her way were easily ignored—in fact, she dared to say it only bothered here every once in a long while. Maria had helped a lot with that. She'd given her a good talk about how to handle things, and now regardless of whether she wore dresses or trousers like she did today, neither made her uneasy in public. Of course, the Auditore's _Palazzo_ was maybe a minute away at most from Leonardo's, so she was never in public long when going home. She was still happy to be back, though, which was a nice change from where she'd been a little over a week ago.

She had Ezio to thank, she knew. She honestly couldn't believe it, but the roof time talks had really helped relieve her anxieties. Oh, she never told him the _real_ truth, but she got to talk a bit about her life and think about home without worrying she might mess up. Federico had joined them at some point, too, and though the younger brother had been a little huffy about it, all three of them had gotten along and talked like they did out in the streets. It was a huge relief, and because of it she'd been sleeping a _lot_ better. In fact, she was pretty sure she hadn't suffer insomnia since the night before Ezio had started the talks. That helped, too, of course; she felt more invigorated and light and things just felt _better_. She was certaily happier, even if she knew she was still out of place. Oh, indeed, she still thought of how she was so far out of home and may never get back, but it was just easier to handle.

Catherine smiled as she came underneath the _Palazzo's_ entryway and waved to Maria, whom was tending to the vine flowers in the courtyard. The older woman nodded back before returning to her flowers and humming some soft tune. She was the only one out there, so the redhead headed inside. Giovanni and the boys were gone, making the home essentially empty besides a few servants. She had finally gotten round to coming across more of them besides Annetta, but as the head of the family had asked, she didn't converse with them much. If they were concerned by her presence, they never showed it; just bowed and headed on by. That was fine by her, and so she just nodded back whenever she passed by one of them in the hall and made her way to the parlor. There she found her target, innocently sitting on the couch with his back turned to her. Claudia was with him, too, but reading a book in a chair in the corner. Neither had noticed her, and, suspecting both were enthralled enough by their items of interest, she tip-toed her way until she was just behind the young man. She raised her arms high with a wicked grin, and then, like a vast, predatory bird, she struck. Her fingers clamped onto his shoulders, and the boy let out a squeal of surprise, startling his sister.

"Catherine!" Petruccio laughed when he finally saw who it was, although his cheeks were flushed. Still, he hugged her the moment she got around the couch, and she happily fell onto the cushions with him. "You got me!"

"You have to always keep an eye on your surroundings!" the redhead laughed before glancing over at Claudia, whom had been staring. As soon as the young woman realized she'd been noticed, Claudia huffed, rolled her eyes, and went back to her book. She muttered something under her breath, but none of it could be made out.

"I was busy drawing, though—look!" the young boy grinned, grabbing his parchment and showing Catherine his attempt at his sister. He hadn't improved all that much really, but he was trying, and how could she say he wasn't doing great?

Smiling, she rubbed his head, "You're getting better, Petruccio! Before you know it your mother will be paying _you_ for drawings!"

"I hope to be as good as you one day—drawing is so much fun! I can put whatever I like on paper and it does not make me feel ill!" he beamed, putting the parchment back with the others and pushing them aside. He turned back towards her then, grabbing her hand with such hope in his eyes. "Now that you are here, you can tell me a new story like you promised, yes? I wish to hear one!"

She laughed, "Alright, alright, just hold on. Let me think… hmmm… what about… well, now this one is a little different from the others… it's more magical, but… it's a story called Beauty and the Beast. It doesn't have Knights, per say, and there _is_ romance, mind you, but it's a good story with a bit of action at the end. Actually… this is really more a story for your sister, so…"

"Oh, no, no, I will hear it! All of your stories are so amazing, and there is a beast involved! I wish to hear it! Please tell me! _Pleeeeeeease!_" the young boy wailed, grasping her hand tighter and basically bouncing in his seat. "I do not mind it is a story for girls or has romance! All the other ones have had romance, too, and they were still amazing!"

"Well, this one is more focused on romance," she began, wondering if she should say another, but the boy's look just made her chuckled and rub his head again. "But alright, alright. Like I said, this story is called 'Beauty and the Beast'. It's about love and seeing the inner beauty of someone, and it all starts with a handsome Prince and an old, ugly woman who came to his castle seeking refuge. The Prince was cruel and heartless, though, and refused the old woman because she was so ugly. However, the old woman was really a sorceress of immense beauty who had come to tests the Prince's heart, but because it was filled with ugliness she cursed him; his appearance would now reflect his heart, and so he became a monstrous _beast_! He grew thick fur all over his body and a tail like a wolf and his feet turned to paws and his hands turned to claws. His hair grew into a lion's mane and he gained a lion's jaw. Sharp, mangle horns grew from his head and a goat's beard came down from his chin!"

"A beast!" the young man gasped, completely enthralled by her words. Beyond him, Claudia rolled her eyes, no doubt finding it all foolish. Yet, Catherine noticed the young woman _was_ listening. She smiled secretly at that.

"Yes. A terrifying beast! But that was not all! The witch covered the Prince's castle in sharp thorns, turned all his servants and workers into the furniture and tools of the castle, and bound his heart to a magical rose, sealed within a glass case. Every year a petal would fall from the rose, and when the last fell, the Prince would die. _However_—should the Prince prove he had a heart filled with beauty and find even just _one_ person who loved him, then the spell would be broken. The witch vanished then, and the Prince, disgusted by his form, fell into despair. How could anyone love a beast? Surely, it was impossible, and so for years the castle was left untouched and grew dark and somber like its master's heart. The woods around it, once beautiful and magnificent, turned gnarly and dangerous. Wolves and other woodland beasts took up home there, and it became a place where none dared venture—that is, until many years later."

"Witches? Man-Beasts? Magical Roses? _Really_? These are the kinds of stories you tell him? No wonder he goes on about such nonsense all the time—you are constantly filling his head with it!" Claudia sighed with exasperation, gesturing with her hand.

"There is nothing wrong it with it, Claudia! Her stories are amazing, and you would think so, too, if you listened! I _know_ magic is not real, but that is not the point!" Petruccio huffed back, giving his sister a glare. The young woman returned the look and then held her nose up at him indignantly.

"It is still silly, and you should learn to act your age!" she snapped and returned to her book, shielding herself from the hurt that showed on her brother's face.

Catherine sighed and gave the young boy a hug, "Oh, don't worry about her. Still want me to keep telling the story?"

"Yes," he sighed, leaning into her embrace.

"Okay," she smiled, squeezing his shoulder before letting him free and leaning back to continue the fairytale she loved. She went on introducing Belle, the young woman who loved to read and imagine, and yearned to see the world, and her inventor father who was practically lost without her and loved her dear. She told him of Gaston, the handsome, but cruel man who pined after Belle, but she wanted nothing to do with him. It had been a while since she'd watched the movie, but Catherine knew it well enough to immerse Petruccio in the world of the fairytale and the trials Belle and the Beast went through to slowly grow to love one another. The young boy found it all exciting—especially the end where Gaston and the villagers came to slay the Beast, but the hunter finally got what he deserved. To end it, she happily embellished the scene in which Belle found the Beast, nearly dead, and confessed her love for him that she had found despite his grotesque appearance. The redhead couldn't help grinning when she found _both_ Petruccio and Claudia listening intently as she described the moment in which the witch's curse was lifted, turning the Beast handsome and all the furniture back into his faithful servants and workers. She happily smiled a she reached the end.

"Beast—now a prince, married Belle not long after, and they all lived happily ever after," she finished, and watched as Petruccio clapped his hands together excitedly.

"Oh, that was wonderful! I loved it! That Gaston got what he deserved! I am so glad the Beast found love—he was not so bad in the end at all!"

"But—but _how_?" Claudia suddenly exclaimed, face contorted with confusion. Both redhead and boy looked to the young woman. "How could Belle come to love such a monstrous looking creature? Surely she was disgusted by him! He was a monster—you cannot love a monster."

Catherine sighed a bit, "Well, that's the thing—fairytales are metaphors for real life. Beauty and the Beast is a story about seeing beneath looks to find the beauty within. Gaston was considered the most handsome man in the village and women would swoon at the sight of him, but he was ugly deep down. He was arrogant and cruel, so Belle could never love him. Yet, Beast, whom was ugly and deformed on the outside, had a heart full of goodness and kindness, so Belle came to love him. It's to show that _inner_ beauty is far better than outer beauty—that the inside makes you truly beautiful."

The young woman frowned, obviously puzzled by this. Was it really so strange? Then again, she supposed most relationships were based on looks, weren't they? Even in her time people got with the prettiest person they could find, and while sometimes it worked out, it wasn't long before the dysfunction in personality emerged. She knew relationships in olden times were similar; people married for looks or politics and money. Personality was hardly a factor until later when you suddenly didn't like who you lived with anymore. She couldn't really blame Claudia for how the world was, she supposed. She wouldn't have known much else.

"I… suppose that makes sense," the woman hummed, but she still did not look fully convinced. Maybe. It was hard to tell sometimes.

"Well, I hope you didn't mind the story. It's a really good one—one of my favorites," Catherine chuckled, and Claudia flushed as her eyes widened.

"I-I it—it… I… you…I… _f-fine_. I… yes. I enjoyed it. Are you happy now?"

"See! I told you her stories were wonderful!" Petruccio giggled, clapping his hands together.

"I _suppose_. You should still not take them so seriously. It is only make believe, anyways."

"Well, sometimes there is truth in them—again, they are metaphors. They have lessons in them. This one is to try and find the beauty within a person and not judge them so quickly," the redhead smiled, and for once Claudia said nothing harsh back. She didn't even glare. Rather, she seemed to really consider it—for a little bit, anyways. She soon took on that usual expression of annoyance—perhaps more so with herself this time—and shut her book a little too quickly. She paused, as if ready to say something, but decided against it in the end as she stood and curtsied.

"Thank-you for your story, Catherine. I will see you at a later time, little brother," she told them, and then she was gone, strolling off down the hallway. The redhead watched her go until she was out of sight and then looked to Petruccio.

"Maybe I'm jumping the gun, but… I think she doesn't hate me anymore."

The young boy grinned, "No, I do not think she does. I told you she would not hold on to her anger for long. I think she may like you now, too."

"Eh… I wouldn't go that far, but this is a start," the redhead winked. "Anyways… Another story or do you want to draw some more? Actually—have you thought of any stories or creatures?"

He giggled, shaking his head, "I am afraid not. I do not have the imagination that you do, Catherine. I am honestly jealous—you are so good at it! I cannot seem to make anything new."

"Aw, you don't have to make something new—you can make a story with what you have, too. Like you—why don't you write a story about yourself as a Knight off to save a princess?"

"I… I suppose I could do that," the young boy smiled brightly, his eyes shining with the spark of creativity now.

"Then get to it! You should start now while you have it!" the redhead laughed, urging him towards his parchment. Petruccio followed her lead and took up the parchment where he started to scribble and draw vehemently. Catherine watched him work, happy for him and pleased with herself to have given him some joy in his life. He had been more sickly than usual lately, but he had not been dour because of it—no, his time with her had kept him joyful and she knew the family appreciated it. She only wished she knew something to help his illness, but she was no doctor.

"Catherine."

Both couch-sitters turned to find the head of the Auditore family at the main parlor entrance, watching them with a smile. Petruccio made a sound of delight as he hopped up and ran over to embrace his father. Giovanni chuckled lovingly, hugging his son, and cupped his cheek.

"How are you feeling today, my boy?"

"I am doing very well, father! Catherine just told me another story, and it was wonderful! There was magic and a beast who became a handsome prince!"

"Oh? It sounds like quite the adventure," the older man hummed, looking to the woman briefly. "I am afraid I must ask to borrow Catherine from you—I would like to speak with her. Would that be alright?"

The boy pouted, grasping his father's tunic, "I… _suppose_. I would rather her help me write my own story, but… if you must."

"Thank-you, Petruccio. You are a good boy."

Catherine came over to join them, patting the boy's shoulder, "I shouldn't be gone too long. Although… if your father is home, your brothers can't be far behind. They may steal me away."

"No!" the little boy gasped. "No, that is not fair!"

"You may have to duel them for me," she winked.

"Do not fret, Petruccio—I will ensure she is returned to you when I am done, and that your brothers will leave her be."

"Thank-you, Father!" his son sighed with relief and then returned to his parchment. Giovanni chuckled, the love for his child all-too evident in his eyes. He tamed it some when he turned to the young woman and motioned for her to follow. She smiled back with a nod and obeyed.

"You wanted to talk?" she inquired, and he nodded.

"Yes, I need to ask some question, among other things."

"Right."

When he did not continue, she knew it would have to wait for when they were in his room. No doubt it had to do with either her training, something about where she was going—it had been long enough here—something about the future, or a combination. They had talked more about it lately, although she made sure to never speak of important events or name anything directly if she could. She still explained things like television and filtered water and airplanes and cars as best she could without giving it away. She also spoke of politics occasionally, but she had to confess she honestly didn't know all that much beyond peer opinion, which was never good. Apparently that wasn't uncommon in the past, either. Other than that, though, he mostly inquired of how a normal people like herself lived, and he seemed relieved to know that her home—she didn't say where since America hadn't been found yet—was one based upon freedom as best it could. She was happy to give him that respite—to know that his and his Order's work was apparently doing some kind of good. It was the least she could do.

"Right this way," he hummed, opening the doors for her. She happily made her way to his chairs and sat down, quite at ease in the room now. Not only had the talks relieved her anxiety, but she dared to say it had made moments with Giovanni better. That, and she and the older man had conversed a lot more—got along more, too. She felt they did, anyways. She enjoyed rather than dreaded their talks, and she almost dared to think she had his trust some. She couldn't be sure, but it was a nice thought.

"Sooo… not in trouble, right?" she began, having made a joke of it lately. He chuckled in response as he had every time now and took a seat across from her.

"Quite the opposite. You have been doing splendidly according to my wife and son. Federico says you are already able to get out of certain grips, and he admits you are getting closer to causing him worry during fights," he began, and she snorted—slightly insulted. Of course, it was true. She had yet to beat Federico in a fight, but she'd been forcing him to dodge more, so that was something. "And Maria says you are speaking—at least around her—much better, and you walk with more grace. She is pleased with your progress."

"I should hope so—she's pushed me hard this last week or so, and I'm just glad I have the energy to keep up!" she laughed lightly.

"She only means to help—but I am sure you know that."

"Oh, yes, but I still have to complain a little. Anyways… what questions did you have?"

He sat forward some, looking over his papers, "Yes… I know you do not know much of the Assassins or Templars, but I thought, perhaps that the Piece of Eden might have come to because you have strong Assassin blood. It has appeared to be the case in history that sooner or later they find their way to us or our enemies. I imagine that might sound odd to you, but there is a reason not everyone is an Assassin or even a Templar… only a select few are capable of doing what we do, and this is because of the abilities that come with our blood. Throughout history the members of our Order and even the Templars have possessed skills that no other has. You know it as Eagle Vision. You saw my son use it, and I used it when we first met as well."

"That… makes sense. So… I'm guessing you want to know if I have that skill?"

"Indeed… I believe you possess _some_—such as healing. Assassins have an odd knock for recovering far quicker than an ordinary man. Indeed, where a cut on anyone else may take days or a week to heal, an Assassin would need an hours or a day at the most. You may not have realized it, but your injuries have actually healed quickly. Beyond that, other abilities are a sixth sense in battle of sorts—to know when your opponent will attack whether he be in front or behind. It is a heightened sense of perception, you could say. And we also possess a particular resilience unknown by most—something we make use of when we leap from rooftops or endure our injuries."

"Well, uh, actually that makes a lot of sense, too, because I thought I always kind of healed fast… but, uh, I don't think I have the perception ability, and I definitely don't have Eagle Vision—I've never had anything like that. And… well, technically I am pretty resilient, but I've just always had a high pain tolerance, so I don't know about that," Catherine replied, frowning as she thought. Briefly, she recalled when the Clock had activated and the man had spoken to her. She was convinced the man was no god now, but he was definitely power and had said something important—something about "changing" her. Catherine thought so, anyways. Maybe. The memory wasn't as clear as she wanted anymore. What if she had been changed, though? Would she eventually have the Vision and was that why she recovered faster? Oddly, she decided not to mention it. It was probably better; she wasn't even sure she was right. She sighed as she rubbed her head. "If you don't mind me asking—why the question?"

"The place I intend to send you… they wish to know your abilities—both yourself and the Clock. I will inform them that it has a terrible power that might undo life as we know by tampering with the fabric of time, and so they will not seek to use it in any way. They may not even believe me. I also informed them that it will not be parted from you, so fret not… however, I do not yet know your full abilities, so I thought it best to ask. I admit, they will be disappointed you do not have strong blood, but they will appreciate you possessing free running and combat skills."

"I certainly appreciate them… although… um… if… if it's alright… who have you been talking to, by the way?"

Giovanni watched her for a moment, no doubt deciding, and then sighed, "I suppose it is only fair. You have earned that much… My aim was to send you to England. There is a decent Assassin hold there, and the royalty is sympathetic with us. There are fortresses there that could protect you, and their archives and researchers might be able to find answers to your Piece of Eden. However, communication has been… difficult. The country is, unfortunately, going through a time of internal conflict of the Royalty. Sending messages is no easy feat, and when I am the only proper Assassin in almost all of _Italia_… well, it is difficult."

"Is there no alternative?" she inquired, and couldn't help feeling a flicker of guilt go through her. She knew she shouldn't, but she was hoping he had no alternative. Then maybe—just maybe—she could stay and somehow convince him to let her help. She really should have given up by now, but she just couldn't.

"I… do have one in mind and have kept them in contact. Correspondence is much easier due to their much closer proximity, but we are, ah… not necessarily on good speaking terms, but I believe they will listen. I fear England may not be an option should the conflict there not resolve itself soon… but I will let you know should that change. I would advise you continue your training until then."

Her heart sank, "Oh. That's, uh… that's good then. I'll be safe there, I'm sure."

"Yes. Despite our differences, the location is incredibly secure. It has defended itself against many invaders and still stands as strong as any fort. Their leader is also an Assassin—of sorts. Not like myself, but a branch of it, although he possesses my skills. I suspect you will come to learn of the other sects should you go there. I do not doubt he would tell you," Giovanni chuckled, and there was a kind of fondness in his tone. Yet was a hint of sadness, too, and she couldn't help wondering how the older man knew this contact. She briefly wondered if they were family. She hadn't heard of any other relatives of the Auditore's, but it didn't seem likely they were all gone.

"Sounds like fun," Catherine chuckled, doing her best to hide her disappointment. She managed a smile as she sat up a bit straighter. "So… anymore questions for me? Anything about the future that I can only half-answer?"

He chuckled this time, "No. I do not think so. I told you I would not need you long, and I am sure Petruccio would like to have you back… I… I would like to thank-you for what you have done for him. He has was not nearly so happy before your arrival, and I am glad he has a friend in you."

"I'm glad to be that friend. He's a good kid… life just… made it hard for him to be one. He's smart, though. He might not end up as strong as his older brothers, but he'll be an intelligent young man. He could easily run a bank all by himself, I bet."

"I admit, that has been a dream of mine sometimes. Ezio and Federico have shown little interest and my eldest is fond of pulling pranks on my associates. I fear he may be fired at this rate," the father groaned, rubbing his brow, and Catherine had to work hard to not laugh aloud.

"Well, he doesn't slack when it comes to training?" she offered, and the man did smile a bit.

"Ah, yes… I believe he will make a strong Assassin—perhaps even better than I was. That is certainly my hope for him, but he will require an ordinary life to live by first. Perhaps _one_ day I will instill some sense of work into him! At least then one of them will."

Catherine couldn't help laughing this time, "Ezio just hasn't grown up yet—I'm sure he'll be an okay Assassin and banker. Probably work for Petruccio."

"Now _that_ is an idea," Giovanni chuckled, shaking his head. "Perhaps I should do that. Perhaps. Ah, but that is for Maria and I to worry about. You go on and spend time with Petruccio again."

"Alright, alright—just trying to give some good advice," the redhead snickering, winking playfully, and finally stood. She bowed her head respectfully. "It was good to speak to you as always."

"Likewise," he nodded, smiling back.

Catherine gave him a small wave farewell before making her way out of the room and to the youngest Auditore, whom was all too happy to have her back and tell him another story. She, of course, was just as happy to do so, and told him as many stories and drew him as many things he wanted for as long as they had. It was the least she could do, and she knew she would be busy that evening. She had a "date" with the boys, and so she kept all her focus on little Petruccio even until dinner. All the while she held on the hope that one day he would no longer be held back by his sickness and could become that man she and Giovanni knew he could be, and the maybe he would have that kind of faith in her, too.

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**10 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's chapter 10! Hope you all enjoyed the time with Petruccio and Catherine's telling of Beauty and the Beast! Oh, and then there was Claudia, too, who can hold grudges for a long time apparently. Kinda. She's a spoiled little thing, hehehe. Anyways, Ezio's roof talks have really helped Catherine out and she's been able to sleep and do better now, so things are going pretty swell. Of course, if you've read my oooother story you know bad things are bound to come, so get your panties secure everyone and get some extra diapers. Kinda. Lol nah, but things never stay too happy for too long ;p_

_Oh, and I expect you all found my little "explanation" for Assassin skills in the game right lol? So I figured that Assassins have a heightened sixth battle sense, thus why they can counter so well in game even with their back turned. That and healing so fast and surviving ridiculous heights. All that Assassin blood, baby. Catherine... pretty much only has the better healing abilities and maybe a tiny bit of sixth battle sense, but not much. Like I said, she's _not _an Assassin-certainly not by blood except for the amount most people have, which is like than .1%. Of course, the lovely "Goddess" maaay have done something to her, but no one knows for sure about that ;)_

_Anyways, I won't spoil things much besides that you can expect next chapter to be intense and start off with some sass time with the boys!_

_Also, if anyone can guess what conflict in England I reference... you know your history ;) As for the other one... you'll see hehehe_


	12. Death and All His Friends

**TMWolf: **_And we're up to chapter 11 yay! Some heavy stuff happens in this chapter, and some mature themes basically hinted. **SO BE WARNED. SOME MATURE STUFF KINDA HAPPENS OR IS COMES CLOSE TO. ALSO F-BOMB AND HEAVY VIOLENCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. **Right, so like I said, this chapter is preeeetty intense at one point and a lot of crazy stuff happens and the story gets on the move toward winding down Act I. So, get ready guys. Not many more chapters before we finally get into the game._

_Right. So. As usual, how the Auditores act is how I portray them based off my interpretations of canon and such._

_Now for reviews!_

**Squid**: _Ezio caaaaan be a gentleman when he wants to be ;p and yay! So glad you've been loving it! Hope you will continue to! :)_

_And today's chapter is brought to you by Coldplay - Death and All His Friends, which you will find it suits it preeetty well. I think so anyways._

_Now, time for the show!_

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**11 **– _Death and All His Friends_

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**July 30, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

The air was cool tonight, despite a warmer afternoon. The sun was almost down below the horizon, the last vestiges of sunlight seeping over the tall buildings. It painted the sky reds and blues that mixed together to form purples. To the east, the sky was fully dark and the thin crescent of light of the waning moon could be seen. A few stars flickered into view, though it would still be some time before they reached full luminance. There was a cool breeze to bring it all together, and Catherine was just glad she was able to enjoy it. She was also glad for her company—her two favorite boys. Well, after Petruccio, anyways.

Catherine sighed happily as she kicked her legs over the side of the building, leaned back on her arms, and watched the city. There were still quite a few people out. Some were just finishing up chores at their stores; some were heading to brothels or a tavern. Some were guards going onto their night shifts. Some were just out because they loved the night. Some were out to do mischief. And some were like the three of them—just enjoying life. It was how she wished every evening could go here with the Auditore's, and she wished every day would go how it had before, too. She loved spending time with Petruccio, and she almost regretted leaving him after dinner to go out with the older brothers. Still, she needed to do some "training"—she actually had done a bit—and so left with them, and now here they were.

"Soo… how much of slackers were you two today?" she snickered after a bit, looking first to Federico on her right, who was the most notorious. The older brother laughed from his spot lying on his back, arms folded behind his head for support. He brought up one knee as he looked to her, grinning like a fox.

"As much as possible. Only just barely managed to meet the daily quota."

"Oooh… that's tough to beat. Ezio?" the redhead hummed, turning to face the younger brother. He was lounged back on his elbows with a leg up while the other hanging over the edge like hers. He chuckled as he kept his gaze on the city.

"My brother always has me beat. Father makes me run errands, and I am unable to slack off for that. He is… very adamant I return as soon as possible all the time," he rumbled, pouting some.

She snickered, "It's probably to keep you from wasting your allowance on women and wine. Right, 'Rico?"

"Indeed. He has _quite_ the bad habit of doing so."

Ezio gave them both a rude gesture, "I only do so every once in a while! And it is generally just women. Besides, brother, you are just as bad!"

"Good grief," Catherine laughed, rolling her eyes. "No wonder your mother and father love me so much—I do enough work for the both of you."

"'Work'? What 'work'?" Ezio snorted.

"Why, I tend to your little brother, of course. I also keep you boys out of trouble when we go out on the city. Just think—if I didn't keep you in line you'd be at a brothel getting wasted and losing all your money right now. Giovanni and Maria would be _furious_."

"They would have to find out first," the younger Auditore snickered, and then sat up with a mischievous grin. "Perhaps we should escape our keeper, brother—the women and wine of _Firenze_ await us!"

Federico stood up, stretching, "Hmm, that does indeed sound tempting, but we would be poor gentlemen if we left our lovely lady alone by herself at night."

"Is that why you're standing up to leave then?" Catherine hummed, smirking up at him. He smirked right back.

"I am… only hoping I might persuade you to return to the _Palazzo_—."

"—so you can go have fun, right?" she finished for him.

She probably should have been insulted by that—wanting to drop her off unceremoniously just so they could go have fun, but she honestly couldn't and didn't blame them. For one, neither were wooing her, or, rather, only Ezio had made attempts, but he'd started figuring out she wasn't going to say yes to him. As such, he'd backed off quite a bit, though would tease every so often. Federico, of course, had made no attempts, and she had no inclination to stop them from having fun. She might have thought a little poorly of spending so much time on women and wine, and maybe it was a _little_ rude to just drop her off, but she likened it to as if she were a little brother; she couldn't partake, but they couldn't leave her, so they wanted her home instead. It was understandable, so she didn't let it get to her. Rather, she laughed.

"Well, I can see when I'm not wanted," she sniffed in mock hurt. She looked to her left when she felt a hand brushed her cheek. It was Ezio, of course, and she gave him a look. He just smirked, chuckling.

"No need to cry, my Lady. We could easily fit you in to our 'fun' tonight."

"Sorry, but you two just don't meet my standards," she cooed back, and Federico laughed behind her.

"Ah, still as sharp of wit as ever."

"Please, you would be so disappointed if I stopped using it on you both."

Ezio hummed, "I don't know, kitty-Cat—I would not mind seeing more of how you are without it. So tame and sweet."

"Oh? But the wild wolf always looks serene and calm, but come to close—and they _bite_," she smirked right back, and the young man just rolled his eyes with a grin.

"That is for certain," he added with a chuckle.

Catherine yawned as she stood up, stretching, "Anyways, if you guys really _do_ want to go out and have fun, we can head back. All that extra training in the mornings does get me tired earlier."

"It _is_ late—we should head back lest mother worry," Federico smiled before he scanned the horizon for the _Palazzo_. It was easy enough to find, although they were farther away than they usually were. He pointed to it, just to be sure they saw it, too. "Let us be off then."

The eldest brother started at a fast jog and leaped to the next roof. He didn't bother to wait—he didn't need to. They would catch up easily enough, and Ezio was with Catherine. She would be plenty safe, and they all knew the younger brother was not in danger around her, either—not anymore. Of course, there was always the lingering threat of shoving him off the roof, but she never made good on it. No, she let Federico, whom was all too happy to comply, much too Ezio's chagrin. Catherine, of course, got one of the greatest laughs of her life.

"Alright, puppy, let's head back," she hummed, rolling her neck so it popped before she moved forward. A hand on her wrist stopped her, though, and she looked back to find Ezio smirking at her. He put his hands on his hips as he grinned mischievously, motioning after Federico with his head.

"How about we make this fun and have a race?"

` She raised a brow, "A race? What are the terms—and I know you have some. You keep trying to make competitions with bets."

He laughed, "You always see right through me, don't you? Well, I cannot say I had not thought of one."

"Alright, alright. Let's hear it and I'll see how fast I disagree with your ridiculous terms."

"I assure you they are not ridiculous—this time," he snickered, hardly put off by her incredulous look. "If I win… you go out on another stroll with me like before. I will tell father it is training on a day Federico is busy—which should be tomorrow."

"Jeez, are you _still_ desperate to court me?" she snorted, but she was grinning. Oh, she knew that he hadn't completely given up, but any "advances" were more like just teases—jokes. That didn't mean she couldn't goad or tease him right back, though.

"No, no; this is just a friendly stroll," he assured her, but his stupid smile told her everything.

"Uh-huh… well, if _I_ win… you have to be my pack mule for the whole day. You'll tell Giovanni it's 'training', but really you're going to pay for whatever I want and tote it back for me and do whatever I want without complaint."

"So I am to be your slave?"

"I said 'pack mule', but slave works, too," she smirked.

"Very well—if I win, you stroll with me, and if you win, I am your slave," he winked and was still for a moment before he suddenly shot off like a bullet. Catherine made a squawk of surprise, and Ezio just laughed and laughed. She ended up laughing, too, although not before cursing his name and sprinting after him. However, she knew it was a losing game; his longer legs had a greater stride and he was easily gaining distance between them. Still, she went along with it for a little while—a few rooftops leaps and such—before slowing to a trot.

"I'll just see you at the _Palazzo_!" she shouted, surrendering. She knew she would lose, and it was a little funny to watch him keep going, passing by Federico. The older brother looked back to see her wave, and then he laughed and took after his younger sibling, thus starting a new race. Catherine just grinned and grinned, shaking her head at the fun of it all. She sighed with content as she slowed to a walk and then stopped completely to gaze out at the city. Sure, it meant she had to tolerate Ezio's antics tomorrow, but it was definitely worth it. She just felt she never really got to see it some things because she was training, so she happily took this opportunity to look about some more.

The redheaded young woman glanced down to the streets below where the people still roamed. It was just enough to be considered normal for anyone to be out and about, and so she considered. She had yet to really walk the streets at night. In fact, she vaguely recalled doing so only maybe three times. The boys tended to keep her to the rooftops or they just weren't out long enough for it to be a midnight sky or for all the torches to be lit. She had an opportunity now, though, and not many bothered a young man at night besides courtesans, but she had no intention of going near them. Thus, she made up her mind, and quickly scoured the nearby alleyways for one that was empty. Thankfully, there was one just on the other side of the building. It was a bit dark with maybe one lantern and very few houses with lights in them, but it certainly looked abandoned. Nodding with content, she quickly descended and hopped down to the stone street.

"Woo—definitely getting better at that," Catherine grinned, quite pleased with the progress she had made during her stay here. She felt a lot stronger now, although she was still nowhere near the boys. However, it felt _good_, and that was what mattered. Keeping her grin, she headed towards the exit to the alley.

She got only a few steps before a hand was on her arm and suddenly she was slammed into the nearby wall. She gasped, the breath stolen from her lungs, but before she could get away or even move, there was a knife to her throat. She froze at once when she found a scraggy man with a wild, dangerous look in his eyes. Her heart raced and a cold sweat formed immediately. This man was dangerous. Even without the knife she would have known that, just in his feral appearance. His clothing was tattered and untamed as well, and his skin was flaked with dirt and grime and scabs and blood stains. His breath was thick with alcohol and reeked worse than decaying flesh.

"Your coin. All of it," he said simply, the knife pressing closer to her neck's soft flesh. She was vaguely reminded of another time when she'd been like this, but no—this was nothing like that. This was no spoiled brat. There were no goons. There was no Ezio or Federico to help. She was alone in a dark alley with a man who would slaughter her at any chance he wanted.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Catherine felt fear—_true_ fear.

"Your coin!" he hissed when she said nothing and pulled her away from the wall to shove her into it again. Her head hit the wall, dazing her for a moment and knocking her hat off. She groaned, meaning to reach to rub her head, but the knife pressed closer. She was torn from her daze quickly and stared, wide-eyed at him.

"I-I don't—I don't have any," she finally rasped out, her throat constricted and making it hard to speak or even breathe. She knew it was a mistake as soon as the last words left her lips. The grip on her arm became impossibly tight, and the man bared his teeth at her in a snarl. She thought he might slit her throat then, but he pulled the knife away to grasp her chin roughly and bring her face close instead. She wanted to gag at his smell and look away, but he held her fast, and she could only hold her breath as he turned her this way and that.

"You can pay in other ways," he rumbled, and the tone made her stomach drop and heartbeat skyrocket. Again, the icy touch of fear consumed her, and she could do nothing as he released her arm to shove it against her collar, pinning her to the wall. She knew she should have grabbed his arm, but her hands were frozen to the wall like the rest of her. Breathing was difficult and her body shook as he brought the knife to her vest. He slipped it beneath the material, a lecherous, hungry grin on his face as he flicked it upward and cut clean through the button's string. She inhaled sharply, her panic rising higher and higher. Fight or flight was setting in and her mind was losing its clarity. She didn't know what to do, but if she did nothing she would face a torture unlike any other. What could she do, though? What was there to do? No one would come for her, no one would save her. She was on her own. No one was coming.

The man's knife slipped higher as he chuckled, and when he flicked his wrist to cut the next button's string, it was not the only thing that snapped. Her own eyes wild with fear, Catherine suddenly grabbed his knife-wielded wrist with a vice-grip, grabbed the arm at her throat to wrench it away and slammed her heel right into his shin. The man yelped, but was not deterred enough. He slashed at her with the blade, and she yelped as he sliced clean through her vest and undershirt, cutting into the flesh. It was not deep, but it bled, and her panic only rose. He came to strike her again, but she dodged this time and shoved him into the wall. The man grunted as he dropped his knife and stumbled away, and she ran. However, her blow had again not done enough; his hand caught her shirt and wrenched her back. Just as she turned there was an explosion of pain on the right side of her face, and then the ground was there. Her vision was filled with lights as she tried to roll, but there was a weight on her hips and the wretched smell was there again, filling her nose.

"You fucking whore!" he snarled, grabbing her throat with his hands and squeezing. She gasped, but it was strangled and she struggled for air. She could mostly only see stars, but her hands shot to his, trying to wrench her neck free. His fingers were clamped there, though. Instinct threw her hands to his face where she dug at the eyes, pressing her thumbs as hard as she could while her other fingers shoved against the side of his head. The man snarled in pain and released her neck to stop her assault. It was all she needed to pull one arm back and strike him between the legs. The man let out a grunt and fell off her, clutching at his groin. Catherine knew she needed to run, but rolling to her stomach was agony, and she could barely stand. Breathing was painful and she coughed hoarsely as she tried to suck in the much needed air. Stars still danced in her eyes and her cheek throbbed, and she swayed as she finally got up.

She watched in despair as the man rose as well, and he was not shaking nearly as much. Fury blazed in his eyes, and she knew he no longer wanted her body in payment. No, he wanted her life. She could see it in the way his breaths came as snarls and his body lowered, hunched over like a beast. He _was_ a beast, she realized. He was a monster, and he wanted her blood.

Her reason left her a second time and she could only stare, frozen yet again, as he charged forward. Yet, by some miracle, she dodged his first blow, only for him to turn on his heel and tackle her. Instincts were there for her, though, and she rolled him over and got herself up. She thought she might get away, but his hand snatched her ankle and she fell hard, only managing to spare another head bang by having her shoulder slam into the stone instead. She twisted and looked in horror to see he had found his knife. He held it tight, knuckles white, and when he lunged she knew it was aimed for her heart. He was going to kill her, right here, right now, and there was nothing she could do, or at least think to do. She was going to die. She was never going to see Ezio or Federico or Petruccio or Maria or Giovanni or even Claudia. She would never see Leonardo again. She would never see her mother again. She would never go home. She would die here, in an alley at night, and no amount of praying for some miracle was going to save her.

Time slowed as the man moved towards her, and her body grew hot from the fear racing through her. Somehow, in that slowness, a touch of clarity reached her. She saw his hand coming—slower than she thought possible—and yet she thought far faster. It didn't seem real, and yet it gave her what she needed. She rolled just so, and it was just enough for the man's blade to miss her entirely. He looked at her, just as surprised as she was, but it was only for a split second and then Catherine was grappling with him for the blade. She kicked him as hard as she could and punched with her free hand, hoping to hit his face, but knew she was making glancing blows. She never let go of his wrist, though—she couldn't give him another chance to strike her—and then she kicked him right in the face. He dropped the blade in the wake of the pain shooting through him, but their struggle knocked it away.

Catherine dived for it. She released the man and leaped. She knew he would be right behind her, and certainly she heard him snarl and charge just as she wrapped her hands around the hilt when she hit the ground. She rolled and saw him leap upon her. She swore her hands moved of their own accord, shoving upwards just as the man reached her. She didn't know if she had aimed, but the blade sheathed itself into the man's throat. He made a garbled sound of shock, eyes wide with a mix of that fury and something else—fear, she realized. Despite the blow, the man moved as if to harm her more, and again she thought her body moved on its own as she wrenched her arms to the left, ripping the blade through and out. Blood splattered across her shirt. The man made yet another garbled sound, choking on the blood as it poured into his mouth and out of his throat, and he fell down beside her onto his back. Catherine scrambled away and up, still clutching the knife in her hand as she panted and stared at him.

The stream of blood quickly became a pool and the man did not move. He did not snarl or growl or gurgle. His eyes did not bulge; his fingers did not clench; his chest did not rise. He was still and silent, and he looked to the sky unwaveringly. She knew the look. Even in the low light she knew it. She had seen it before and she knew—the man was dead.

She had killed him.

The revelation shocked her and she looked to her hands, the blood smeared across them, and to the knife where it dribbled still, and then to her shirt, which was now painted red. Her breathing grew ragged and quick as her mind tried to understand—tried to believe this had happened. She couldn't have killed him, but she had. He was dead, still, gone, and she had done it, but it wasn't possible. She'd never killed before, and never thought she would. Oh, she had like to think she would be prepared to if needed, but this—this wasn't the same. This was different. This was—God, she didn't know what this was!

_'Stop.' _A voice—her voice, she realized—commanded her silently. _'Think_.'

So she did.

Catherine looked at the man and she thought.

And thought.

And thought.

And thought.

It didn't take long for her to be aware of many things.

He was dead.

She had killed him.

He had attacked her.

He meant to kill her.

So she killed him.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

It was simply the way of things. He had meant her harm, so she had retaliated. He had not liked it, so he wished to kill her instead, but she fought again, and now he was dead.

That was it.

Nothing less.

Nothing more.

Catherine looked to the knife in his hands, watching the blood drip away, and then to the pool of blood still growing out from the man's body. Her heart no longer raced. It maintained a calm, steady beat, and her breathing, while still shaky from her throbbing neck, was equally so. Her mind worked clearly now, and she knew she needed to leave. She didn't know how loud their scuffle had been, but someone was bound to have heard, and if they saw her, there would be trouble. The man had deserved it, but they would still be upset by what had happened, and she could not afford the trouble, so she tossed the knife at the man's corpse, letting it splash into the red.

Not even giving him another glance, she turned to the alleyway walls and climbed, never stopping until she reached the top. There she continued onward, focused solely on the path to home. Nothing else mattered; the world may as well as have been gone as she traversed the rooftops to the _Palazzo_'s. She methodically worked her way down its walls and walked right into the building. If anyone was there, she didn't notice. She knew who she needed to see at this hour, and so she walked at a steady, but firm pace through the hallways towards the servant's quarters. She didn't even need to go there, though; she found her intended target just inside the kitchen.

"Annetta," she called as she came forward. The woman looked up with a smile as she washed a pot, but then gasped and dropped it to race over her to the redheaded woman.

"My Lady, what—you are covered in my blood!" the woman gasped, taking Catherine's hands to see the damage and gasped again at the wound on her chest. "My God, what happened?!"

"I was attacked. I received a cut to my collar—I may require stitches," the redhead explained plainly, but Annetta's worries only increase. She quickly brought Catherine to a sink and obtained a bucket and towel. She only paused when she saw two servant's come by, no doubt hearing her shouts.

"Angella! Quickly—get the Doctor! Cristofo—water now!" she snapped, and the servants only glanced briefly at Catherine before they darted away to do their tasks Annetta returned to the young woman then, gently peeling away her shirt and vest to wince at the wound. "It… it does not look deep…. But all this blood…"

"Not all of it is mine."

If anything, the worry on Annetta's face grew stronger still, but the Cristofo man returned with the bucket full of water, which he put besides the woman. She waved him away then while she dunked the cloth into the liquid and began to wipe gently at the blood. It stung a little, but Catherine did not move. She simply let Annetta work, her mind not doing much of anything but just registering what was happening.

"Catherine?" a voice called from the hallway. "Catherine? We saw you come in, but you took off and—."

The redhead looked and found both Ezio and Federico standing in the entryway, eyes wide. For whatever reason, she gave them a small smile, and it seemed to break them from their stupor. Federico reached her first, worry heavy in his expression, not unlike Annetta.

"My God, Catherine—what happened!?" he rasped, wanting to grab her arm or something to look her over, but the maid kept him back as she worked. She'd gotten a good amount of blood already from her neck and chest, revealing the cut better. It wasn't as deep as it felt, but it definitely stung and still bled. The woman worked hard, though, and Catherine did not protest to anything she asked, be it tilting or turning. Instead, she stared at the older Auditore brother, and then the younger, whom had yet to come closer. He was frozen to his spot, appearing utterly devastated. She gave him another small smile before she returned to Federico.

"I wanted to walk the streets instead, so I went down to an alley, and a man attacked. He wanted my coin, but when he realized I had none he attacked. I fought back, so he tried to kill me."

Rage flashed in Federico's eyes, "Bastard! How dare he—where is he!?"

"He's dead," she replied, and she supposed the simplicity of it was what caused the older brother to blink, his fury and worry gone for a moment, but then the latter was back. There was even maybe relief there, but certainly concern more than anything else.

"Did he hurt you badly?" he asked, reaching up to touch at her cheek, which had begun to swell and the skin turn darker shades.

"Just the cut and the bruises. I'm fine otherwise."

The older brother's shoulders slumped with what she supposed was more relief, but then they rose, and he turned to glare at Ezio. She had never seen the elder Auditore angry with his sibling, but the rage was strong in him as he stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger. Ezio could only flinch and stare, eyes even wider now.

"You should have stayed with her! I told you to go back and make sure!" he snapped, and his younger brother looked as if he'd been struck. He may as well have. Federico opened his mouth to speak again, but was silenced when he found Catherine's hand grabbing his other arm. He turned, confused, as she shook her head.

"It's not his fault. No one here is at fault but myself and that man. I decided to climb down, and he decided to harm me. Ezio did nothing. Blaming him will solve nothing when there is nothing to solve. The man is dead. There is no more to think on it," she explained and again she imagined it was her candor that made him seem so uneasy, but he did relent. He sighed deeply and touched her hand warmly.

"You are right… I am… I am just mad at myself, I suppose. You were under my care, and here you are hurt so badly…"

"I will be fine. The bruises will fade and at most I may have a thin scar," she replied, again giving that smile, though she'd noticed it didn't really reassure him much. Indeed, Federico let out a deep sigh, and no doubt meant to say how it wasn't fine at all, but he was cut off as Angella returned with one of the masked doctor's in hand. The man didn't need to see her pointing to know who was the patient and was by Catherine's side at once. Federico and Annetta both moved away as he examined her, tilting her face to check the bruise on her cheek and also on her neck some, and then carefully and tenderly checked the wound on her collar.

"The cut is not too deep so you will not need stitches, but we will need to wrap the wound… I would ask the gentleman to leave the room, if you would," the doctor explained, glancing to both Auditore boys. Despite knowing it was because the redhead might have to be indecent, they were hesitant to go. She was hurt, and they did not want to take the chance of it worsening. Yet, she urged them on with a gesture.

"Go. I will be here still," she said gently, and though they were still reluctant, Federico was the first to go. He ushered Ezio out with him, though the younger brother still looked on at her with such dread and worry she imagined he would not be at ease for a long while.

"Annetta, if you would, please continue to wipe away the blood, and help her with her clothing. I will need to wrap around the chest," the doctor spoke as he went through his bag. The woman nodded and helped Catherine remove her vest and then unbutton her shirt so she could slip her arms free. The redhead was given an odd look at her bra—Catherine had refused to be rid of it, but was glad for it at the moment. Her mind might have had an unusual steadiness to it, but she would have been uncomfortable to be bare before the man. Thankfully, she only had to slip her arms from the strap and kept the actual support up to let the doctor work. Neither said anything as they did so, Annetta cleaning the blood and the doctor applying some salve before finally getting the cloth wrapped around both her shoulders to ensure it stayed put. He allowed her to dress again, although she kept the vest off. There was no point with it so bloodied, and she would change again once she was back in her room.

"Here. Drink this to ease the pain. It will taste sour, but it will help. I would advise you rest for at least a few days, if not more until the wound no longer bleeds in the slightest," the Doctor explained, and Catherine nodded as she took the bottle and, without hesitation, drank some. It was certainly acidulous, but it would help.

"Thank-you, Doctor. Please-," Annetta began, hands to her chest to plead to the man, but he lifted his own to stop her.

"I will say nothing," he chuckled and nodded to both before leaving. The maid sighed tiredly and turned to Catherine, holding her hands.

"Come, we should get you to bed. You must be exhaust…ted."

The redhead watched the maid's eyes wander to the doorway where Giovanni stood like a statue. He was not in his usual grandeur, and his normally cheerful expression was very somber. Catherine did not smile to him as she had his children. She knew why he was here, and it was not to solely comfort her or inquire of her health, if he was here for that at all. He glanced to Annetta, whom straightened, bowed, and left. The redhead turned to face him as he walked slowly into the room, his arms behind his back. He stood just feet apart, and for once she kept her eyes on him, just waiting. It might not wise to stare back like that, but her mind was in a different place right now, and she just felt it might be better.

"Are you well?" he asked after a pregnant pause, and she nodded.

"The wounds aren't terrible. At most I am tired."

He regarded her for another moment, "We must speak tomorrow of what happened."

"I know."

Again, he paused, "…You are certain you are alright?"

"Yeah," she replied, but the man did not look convinced. At last, she wasn't either. She looked away, rubbing at her now-clean hands. "I will be."

Giovanni finally spared her a small, comforting smile and even grasped her shoulder gently. He said nothing more, but he didn't need to. She knew what he meant and she was grateful for it. Really, she was, and she was glad he was not furious, but he was worried for other things, too, and she didn't blame him. She would have felt the same in his situation. She knew she should have been concerned, but she wasn't. Not right now—not yet. Maybe later when she has rested and could think on things. For now, though, she needed a warm bed to sleep in and try and make sense of it all, and maybe feel a bit more like herself.

"Go on then," Giovanni told her gently, touching her back to urge her onwards. She nodded and made into the hallway, which was empty. She was a little surprised—she expected the boys would have been there to pester her or ask concerned questions, but she was alone. She suspected it was Giovanni's doing, and she was grateful. She wasn't sure she wanted to answer questions right now.

Sighing softly, she ascended the stairs and made for her room, but paused when she heard a door open and a hushed whisper of her name. She turned just as Ezio reached her, and he had his hand out as if to grab hers or her arm or something, but he hesitated and then let it fall to his side. He opened his mouth to speak, but he hesitate in that, too, and struggled for his words as he found the floor far more interesting to look at save for the few, guilty glanced he gave her.

"Catherine—I… I'm sorry—if… I hadn't… I should have… please… this… I… I did not…" he sputtered, and would have gone on had she not placed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. He looked to her, confused, worried, and hurting over what he believed he had done.

"Ezio, I told you—this is _not_ your fault. It's no one but mine and the man's. You did not wish for this to happen. You did not know it would happen. _I _didn't even know it would, but it did, and it's _not_ your fault. I'm not hurt because of you. I'm hurt because that man attacked me—that's all. Do not blame yourself for this—promise me that."

Ezio was quiet for a long while, just watching her with those eyes, filled with such sorrow and regret. She knew even if he promised he wouldn't mean it, but that was the way of things, wasn't it? Even if you said something, you always felt different, and you ended up lying. It was those little white lies that made you feel better in the end; made you think it was alright just long enough to start pretending until it really was okay. She hated feeling like that. She hated having others feel like that. She wished they could be sincere, but she understood it, and she didn't blame or hate him for it. No, she knew he needed the lie right now.

"I… I will try," he sighed deeply, shoulders and head falling. He couldn't give her a smile, so she gave him one instead. She reached over, squeezing his hand, and, not knowing why, took a step forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"You're a good person, Ezio—don't ever change, okay?" she asked softly, almost at a whisper, and then she turned and headed back to her room. Just as she entered, though, she heard him bid her a good night and when she looked, she was fairly certain his lip twitched upwards ever so slightly.

**-O-**

**August 3, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine sighed as she sat in the courtyard, suited in a dress. There was a touch of what she figured passed as makeup for this time on her neck and more on her cheek where she'd been struck just days ago. The swelling had gone down the next day, but the bruise—a nasty purple, brown, and black mixture—had stayed firmly in place until recently. Now it was almost back to her normal skin color, but Annetta had applied something akin to cover-up this morning. Her neck, thankfully, did not need as much, although the bruises there had finally shown more readily the next day. Those were almost gone, too, but still needed the powder after she'd thrown on the dress to hide the dark scab on her chest. While she loathed the cloth, it had been specifically requested by her escort today, and it _did_ hide her wound well. It ran from her left collar to just below the other at an angle, so it would certainly show in some of her boy clothes, and Annetta had specifically mentioned that it should not be showing today. When she'd asked why, the maid only said because she was going "out".

_That_ had been a surprise since Giovanni had effectively placed her under house arrest the following morning, although she had been completely fine with it. She was hurt and her face would be noticeable whether in a dress or shirt. That, and the patriarch of the Auditore family had made it clear he feared someone had seen her. She was certain they hadn't, but it was dark and she honestly couldn't be one-hundred percent positive. That, and her mind had been elsewhere, focusing on the task of getting back to the _Palazzo_ and not whether someone noticed. She knew no one had tried to follow, and no one had noticed she was hurt on the way back, but someone was bound to find the body of the man and come looking for answers. No doubt they'd be hunting for someone with a great deal of blood or injuries on them, and she fit the bill—at least, in terms of injuries. So she made no opposition to his demands of staying solely at the _Palazzo_ for the past few days. She just thought it would be much longer, yet here she was now in the courtyard.

Catherine didn't doubt her "escort" was Giovanni. Both boys had been reluctant to be around her, either by orders from their father or personal guilt, she wasn't sure. Of course, she'd been kept somewhat apart from the others as well, perhaps to avoid questions about her appearance or to keep them from worrying. Maria was the only other to really know and had been a mix of worry and lividness, but did so only in private. For what she did see of the others, they had been told it was simply an accidental meet up with a drunk that had surprised her, but nothing more. She was spared their questions, too, but being kept somewhat apart did make things a little lonely. Thus, she had been a little excited to know she would be leaving the _Palazzo_, even if it was only with the head of the family.

The sound of a door opening pulled the redhead from her thoughts and she looked up to find him still inside his office, hidden in the shadows. A trickle of unease went through her, although not for what the man might do. Rather, she had never seen him seem so aloof as he beckoned her to come. Still, she did not hesitate, pausing only to dust her dress off and then followed him into his office. She paused again when he closed the door, though only because he was not dressed in his usual attire, but an entirely different outfit altogether. In place of his long robes was a white tunic-like garb with dashes of red going from the tip to the shoulders, and with a collar that flared out just like his sons' did. A white cape with red on the inside fell over one shoulder, and a white sleeves came out from beneath the vest to where he wore dark gloves over his hands. A thick, red sash ran around his waist, on which a belt buckle with the Assassin symbol sat. She had never seen him wear actual pants before, and yet here he was clad in dark ones that tucked into boots that looked strikingly similar to Ezio and Federico's. All together he looked like an entirely different man, and certainly much younger.

Giovanni must have noticed her staring, because he chuckled, "Did you think I did my _other_ work in my normal robes?"

"Uh—well, uh… _no_? I just… um," she babbled, thrown off by his demeanor. The man just chuckled again as she approached his fireplace and pushed in one of the emblems on the top. There was a click and then a soft creak and groan as the back of the fireplace descended downward. Now _that_ definitely surprised her. She knew this era had some nifty contraptions, but not as nifty as that. Giovanni took it in stride, though, and led her into a small room with books and tables and weapons strewn about. There was even a mannequin of sorts where she suspected his new robes went, but was now used for his normal attire. He went past it all, though, and pulled on a torch on the far wall, which caused a large section in the shape of a door to move, revealing a dark tunnel. He removed the other torch to be used for a light and beckoned her to follow.

"Come. It is a short walk," he explained and she nodded, trotting over to keep close. When the door—and fireplace—returned to their places behind them, he spoke again. "I use this only when I need to enter and leave here safely. My work requires it, as you can imagine."

"It's smart… um… I… no one has… asked about… no one noticed I came back here?" she asked tentatively. She had been led to believe so since there had been no poundings at the door, but she had spent most of her time in her room lately.

He glanced back at her, "Thankfully, no. There has been no word of the murder, either, and I have no doubt it is because the man was a lowly thief and criminal. I imagine the city is grateful for his death."

"Still…"

"If they have not come now, they will not come later. But do not worry yourself over that—what is done is done. It cannot be changed, and it would be foolish to hope so," he replied a bit sternly and silenced her. However, he sighed moments later, again glancing back. "I know I have asked this many times now … _are_ you alright, Catherine? The moment has long passed, but …"

"Oddly enough… I am," she mused, giving him a shrug and a weak smile. She probably should have been worried that she was. She knew her mind acting how it had that night was a defensive or a coping mechanism or something, and generally that was all she needed to be normal and not be bothered by things. Oh, she would always recall the moment and remember it, but the feelings from it were always numbed; as if watching a movie. She was apart from it, though she was witnessing it and knew and could even remember how it felt, but the connection just wasn't complete. She had thought this time might be different, but so far she'd been wrong. She hadn't even had a nightmare, although sleeping took a bit longer than usual again.

Giovanni stopped then, turning to face her, "You are certain? You do not need to put on a brave face here, Catherine. It is alright if you are frightened or uneasy."

"I know… and it's probably a bad thing, but I _am_ okay. I maybe regret killing him, but at the same time…"

"His death was necessary," he concluded for her, and he was right in a way. She preferred thinking about it like that, anyways. He let out a deep breath of air through his nose, still watching her for a moment longer, and then turned towards the wall they had reached. He put the torch in the holster for it and then pulled his hood over his head as he continued, "Stay close to me when we are outside. We will wait briefly to allow your eyes to adjust."

Catherine frowned, "I… I thought… _did_ someone notice me?"

"No, I do not believe they saw you return to the _Palazzo_, but… if what you said it true—that you think the Clock may have worked as well… someone perhaps may have seen you in the alley and are possible looking for you. They might have seen your face, so I wish to test this theory. You are certain the Clock was not visible at any time?"

"Yes—it was in my pocket the whole time," she replied, shaking her head. Truth be told, she wasn't actually sure the artifact activated. She had a feeling it may have—she swore she felt a warmth in her pocket when she almost died—but it could have been her adrenaline or some other factor as well. Still, she had to consider the possibility and so had explained the moment to Giovanni the morning after. He had grown very somber, and no doubt he had begun to plan for this day right at that moment. She couldn't help wondering if this was a ploy to lure anyone who saw her out and end them. The notion struck a small cord of unease in her, but she knew it was the best thing to do. If someone tried to take her or the Clock, it would only lead to chaos, and Giovanni worked to prevent such things. That, and he had his family to protect, too.

"Even so," he rumbled as he opened the wall and they quickly slipped out. He shut it just as quickly. The light of the late morning sun was bright, but she adjusted soon enough and looked to the older man to let him know. He nodded and, in an unusual gesture, gave her his arm to hold. He had never done so, but she hooked it as Maria had taught her, and let him escort her along the river side to the stairs leading up to the streets. "If you can, help look for anyone who recognizes you. If you notice them following, tell me at once."

"Right… are we, uh, just walking, or heading anywhere in particular?" she inquired as they ascended the stairs and easily integrated into the crowds. There were some looks cast their way, but none really lingered—not that she noticed, anyways—and no one appeared to follow.

"Just through the crowds. We will sit and wait in a more open area—there are things we must discuss, too."

Catherine looked to him a bit sharply, dread now filling the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip, already having a guess at what it was. It had been about a month since she'd been here, after all. Surely that was more than enough time for the man to get through his business discussions. Yet, now more than ever she wished he hadn't, and not just because she wanted to help. She could only bury away the feelings, though; she knew Giovanni would not hear her pleas, and so occupied herself with searching for anyone who might be staring far too long or for following them unusually long, too.

Her search ended up fruitless, and in this case she was glad. Giovanni appeared to have found no one as well, his face less stern as he brought her to a bench and sat down. There he finally had her removed her arm and was silent for some time. She was beginning to hate that a great deal—the lasting silence. He was that sort of man, she knew, but it was just so aggravating. She wondered if Maria ever had to deal with it and how she managed it if she did. Oh, she knew it was no doubt with cause—in fact, she saw his yes scouring the crowds beneath his hood. He was trying to find any trouble, so she tried doing the same. This time, she did see some people look a bit longer, but not long enough—except for one. It was a man she recognized; she could never mistake the orange clothes or that foxlike smile he wore. She swore he probably chuckled when he saw her watching, and considered waving back, but Giovanni touched her arm ever so slightly.

"You see someone?" he asked quietly.

"Uh, yes, but I've met him before—he helped me when I was on my day off," she replied, and she knew the man had looked. For a moment, she feared he would be mad, but he only chuckled.

"I see. He is an ally—we need not worry of him," the older man hummed, and Catherine saw her comrade in orange bow his head. It wasn't to her, though, and she looked back in time to see Giovanni nod in return. When she looked towards the man again, he was gone—yet another vanishing act.

"Who—?"

"A friend—another pair of eyes in this city. As I said, do not worry over it—especially now that I believe we are safe," he hummed and leaned forward so his arms were settled on his knees. She had never seen him do so, and it was almost like it wasn't Giovanni sitting next to her. He was always been so proper. "And as such… it is time we discussed our other matters."

Her throat tightened a little, "R-right…"

"My plans for England have not followed through, and may not for some time… therefore, you will be sent to _Monteriggioni_ to stay with my brother, Mario. As I told you, he is part of the Assassins as I am. However, he leads the Mercenaries instead, although he was trained in all the same arts as myself. His home will be a good sanctuary for you, and I don't doubt he will keep you safe. He may also have knowledge in his books or what our father and grandfather left there. Certainly, you will be safe there, too, until the Order in England will stabilize and be able to take you in."

There it was.

Her sentence.

It may not have been a trial, but she certainly felt hanged. She didn't know why she'd bothered to hope. She supposed it was because they had gotten along so well lately and she thought, perhaps, he might let her stay, but she was a damned fool. She always was, wasn't she? She had been stupid and thought and hoped when she knew it wasn't safe to, and now it hurt. She would good at pushing back that feeling, though, and merely clenched her fingers in silent agony as she nodded.

"Of… of course… when… when do I leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. My brother will send his men as escort. It is nearly a full day's ride, so you will need to set out very early in the morning—before the others wake. I would suggest you begin preparing your things for travel. Consider everything we have given you as a gift—they are yours to take with you. I will also return your original attire, but keep that locked away as well. Mario will have something for that. You should say your farewells and buy any more art supplies should you wish to as well."

"…Right," she replied slowly, eyes looking down at her hands in her lap. She had one squeezed around the other, biting her tongue to keep from feeling hurting too much. It was almost impossible, though, and despite her efforts, she felt the twinge of pain in her chest. It was just too soon. How could she be leaving in essentially a day? That wasn't enough time to say good-bye or do everything she needed. Hell, she didn't even _want_ to go. She liked it here. She liked the people here. Here was her only hope of going home, and now she was being sent away and she didn't even know how long.

"Know I do not do this out of hate, Catherine—this not just for the safety of my family and this city, but yourself as well. You require a place that you will be protected and will not encounter malcontents. That man could have very easily killed you, and it is nothing short of a miracle it turned out as well as you did. At _Monteriggioni_, this would not have happened. You will be safe there and be able to decipher your artifact. It will be better for all of us—especially you—in the end, Catherine. Please understand that."

She let out a small, pitiful laugh, "I probably won't for a while… but in time, maybe. I… um… can I… can I visit? Can I come back here and see you all again sometime?"

"Hmm… not right away, no. It would be best if you remained hidden there for some time before you are allowed to visit. You are returning to England, after all—it would seem unusual for you to return within months' time. You may write, though—Mario has pigeons you may use," Giovanni hummed, but it only helped a little. Still, she supposed it was something.

"Okay."

The older man looked to her then, and she didn't doubt that, even if she'd been hiding her saddened expression, he would have known. Unfortunately, the best he could do was reach over and hold her hand gently.

"You will find a way home, Catherine. You are an intelligent woman, and the Clock came into your hands for a reason. I do not doubt it will lead you home."

She looked at his hand and, after a few long moments, squeezed back, "I hope I'll have your confidence one day. And maybe you're right—maybe being at _Monteriggioni_ will help. Maybe your brother—this Mario—can help, too. Maybe. I hope so."

"Have faith, Catherine. You will not realize it yet, but in the darkest times, it is faith—and a bit of luck—that pulls us through. So keep your heart strong and your head up. You will find your way."

Like with everything else, Catherine knew it might be a long time before she started to believe him. She wanted to—oh, she desperately wanted to, but right now it was just too hard. One day, maybe.

For now, though, faith was still very, very far away.

**-O-**

**August 3, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine came to the roof to find some solace as she had been able to for a while now, but it was nowhere to be found. If it was there, she was blind to it, and so she kept her knees pulled tight to her chest as she wallowed in her sorrow. She knew she should have just pushed through it by now but she couldn't—she just _couldn't_. Not yet. She needed more time, but had none of it, and so she thought only of what she could say, but that was as impossible as everything else right now. How did she tell these people, whom she might have only known a month but come to care for deeply, that she was suddenly leaving? It wasn't fair. It wasn't. She'd finally started to feel like she'd gotten a little bit of home here, and now it would be taken from her _again_.

The redhead bit her tongue as she buried her head into her knees. She would not cry. No; not here. She could force back these tears, although the ache would remain. She would know she wanted to, but she wouldn't do it. She had to be strong and figure things out. Crying would do no good—it only made her weak, and she had to keep trudging forward.

Sighing softly, she lifted her head again to stare out at the city she'd come to start loving. Even now the sights enthralled her, and she knew she'd miss it—especially the building she sat on. She knew she'd especially miss the people even more. Giovanni had told her she could write, but that was nothing, and visiting might not be for a long while. How long was that, though? A month? Three months? A year? _Years_? He didn't say and she dreaded to know the answer. She could only hope Mario would be kind to her.

"Catherine?"

Though his voice was soft, Catherine flinched before she looked back at Ezio, the young man standing just feet from her. Concern was evident there, and also hesitance. She didn't doubt it was caused, in part, his father's words, but also especially what had happened a few days ago. He was trying to overcome it—she could see it in how he would smile weakly at her and give small hellos when he saw her—but he was the kind of person that, when he felt guilt, it pervaded him for a long time. Tonight, though, she wished he would push it aside.

"Hey," she replied after a bit, giving the same kind of smile he'd given her lately. She looked back out at the city moments later, and she thought he might leave. However, the sound of his boots on the tiles only grew louder, and she soon saw his legs beside her. He didn't sit down—just stood there, a look of unsureness in his features. She chuckled softly, "Just sit down—I won't bite."

He gave a small chuckle back as he relented and sat beside her, but the air around him was thick with awkwardness. He let his legs dangle over the edge and leaned back on her arms, but he did not look at her, nor did he make a witty remark. At most, he took small glances, as if trying to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. He wasn't and hadn't, of course, and she meant to tell him that. She meant to tell him again how it wasn't his fault, but her mouth didn't move—not for a long while. Silence was their only true companion besides the sounds of the city. Catherine hated it. It only made things worse, but she wasn't sure what to say. There were quite a few many things, and the longer the silence continued, the worse her uneasiness got until she forced herself to just open her mouth.

"I-I… I'm… leaving."

She winced. That hadn't really been what she wanted to say, but there it was. She saw him look over sharply, no doubt the first of the children to hear the news. He gaze turned back to the city for a few moments before coming back to her.

"When?"

She sighed deeply, "Day after tomorrow."

"I… I see… you… you do not have long then," he mumbled, eyes falling. Her silence was confirmation enough. "You return to England."

"Uh—yeah. Yeah. My Dad is, ah, going to meet me outside the city and take me back. Giovanni will escort me early. He, ah… said to say my good-byes before then. So… tomorrow."

"Will you… return one day?"

She laughed pitifully, "I want to. I hope I can. I'll miss you guys too much."

"We will miss you, too," he chuckled, nudging her. She smiled a bit more genuinely. She still sighed again, letting the silence settle in once more. It wasn't quite as bad, but she still hated it. She hated what tomorrow was going to bring, too. She hated what the day after would bring even more. She wished this was all a dream, but even if it was it'd have been a nightmare. She was just glad Ezio was with here, if only for the comfort of someone being there.

Catherine unfurled her legs then and slumped over, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. A bold move, maybe, but she was in no mood for playing that kind of game. She was tired and just wanted the proximity—to really feel and know she had someone there. Thankfully, Ezio refrained from his usual antics. In fact, he didn't even move beyond maybe glancing over at her.

"You… you won't forget about me, right?" she asked quietly, almost at a whisper. It was a stupid question, but she had to ask it.

Ezio smiled gently as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing, "Never."

No more words passed between them—no more were needed. So they just sat there, Catherine leaning on his shoulder, and Ezio more than willing to give it.

And for that moment, it was all she needed.

* * *

**11 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And there you have it guys. Catherine is officially going to be sent to Monteriggioni. I imagine you guys all figured that out already, but there it is. She IS going to be sent away, so she will be missing events of the game unfortunately ;( And now she has to go say good-bye to everyone. It's going to suck... and this is right after her incident! It's not a good day for Cat, and she's having to deal with Death and all of his friends these last few days. And yeah, she has a defense mechanism that basically makes her like Spock or something, and it's just how she's dealt with things. You may learn more about it later ;)_

_But hey... she got Ezio at the end to comfort her. He can be a good boy when he needs to, and I've always been of the mind that Ezio would be just devastated if he thought he got someone he cared about hurt, even if it wasn't really his fault. Thus, he's very uneasy right now, but trying to do right by her. Poor puppy ;(_

_Anyways... so.. kudos to whoever got the second cameo of that one character, heh. And we get to see Gio in his robes! He wears them well._

_And um... that's about it really. I think. Anyways, next chapter is good-byes aaaaaaaaaaand some fluff! You heard me. Fluff. You finally get it. You're welcome. ;p_

_Anyways, until next week!_


	13. The Days We Care About

**TMWolf: **_And it's update time! Unfortunately, it's a bitter sweet chapter. Time to say the good-byes! ;( Worse yet, one more chapter and Act I is over! But then we get going into the game, so that's something! Anyways, not going to spoil much here! Next update maaaaay be delayed. I don't know. I'm moving out and back home, so things shouldn't be too bad since I have a lot already moved, but you never know lol Anyways._

_How the Auditore family and others act is based on my interpretations from canon/game/book/short movie/etc._

_Now for the lovely reviews:_

**_Britanika_**_: Thanks so much! Hope you didn't mind waiting a few days for this update! ;)_

**_Squid: _**_Yep! She's leaving ;( Don't worry, though-they won't be separated for tooooo long. Kinda. Chapter-wise, anyways, ha ha. And yay! Hope you it continued to be your McDonalds, ha ha ha_

_Chapter 12 is brought to you by Marble Sounds - The Days We Care About! Not so much lyric-wise, but definitely title~_

_And now for the story! :'D_

* * *

**12 **– _The Days We Care About_

* * *

**August 4, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

Saying good-bye had always been easy for Catherine. She supposed it made her crass or uncaring, but it just had never been hard. Maybe it was because she hadn't really had to say it yet—maybe it was because she hadn't made that close of friends that she could care enough for. She hadn't really said good-bye to her mom, either, although she wished she had gotten the chance to do so. Whatever the case, saying the word had been as easy as most any other conversation.

Except now.

Now it was hard. Difficult. Impossible, even.

Her throat was tight as she sat there in the parlor, everyone going about things as they usually did after dinner. Giovanni had yet to inform them all formally, but he intended to soon enough. In fact, he was in the room—something he rarely was able to do. His children, of course, were delighted, and Maria was, too, although she knew of her leaving. The older woman had said nothing of it thus far, and Catherine had been left completely alone for the most part when she and Giovanni had returned yesterday and throughout all of today. She'd said the usual pleasantries where she could, and even gave a few waves here and there to the boys, but otherwise she was left be to get her things ready secretly. Annetta had helped with that, and she now had her things in a pack in a chest; ready to go tomorrow morning. While she was glad for the help—and to have her old clothes back—she was sad to have it, too. She could only smile as such at Annetta, and the woman could only give her the same kind back.

And now she was here, in the parlor, wondering how the hell she was going to do this. She didn't know how to _really_ say good-bye to people—not ones she cared about. Did she just say it like she usually did? Just hug and say "bye" or "so long" and that was it? Or did she give them some long-winded speech about how she'd never forget them or how she would always write and come visit even though it was a lie? Did she tell them it would be alright even if it wouldn't, and leave with smiles? Would she cry as she hugged them? What did she do? She didn't know. She hated not knowing. She hated feeling so awkward. She hated having to say good-bye.

Catherine let out a soft sigh, watching the family go about their fun. The sun set late here in Italy, and so there was plenty of light for Federico and Ezio to play their game of chess. The younger brother was, as always, no match for his elder, but he was trying hard. Claudia was next to her mother, working on some needlework and giggling and gossiping with her. Petruccio sat beside the redhead, happily drawing away, ever oblivious to her unease—something she was glad for. She wasn't sure she could part with him or even begin to tell him. No, she needed Giovanni to do that, and she could see the man was prepared when she looked over at him, sitting in the only remaining chair. He was gazing at his family with a smile, one he shared with her, though a touch of sympathy was there just for her. He knew this was painful, and after a month they were finally getting along well. She almost felt like he might consider her something close to a kid, but she was probably just thinking too much into it. She wanted to think it, though, so why not? Why not believe a little white lie?

"Catherine," she heard Giovanni say, though it was soft enough only she noticed—everyone else was too engrossed in their activities. She looked to him and her heart sank. It was time. He didn't even need to tell her for her to know, and so she nodded, which was his cue to stand. The movement was enough to catch his family's attention, and they paused to look up at him expectantly. The only ones to not do so were Catherine, whom clenched her fingers tightly in her lap, and Ezio, whom looked to the redhead with a hint of concern she missed.

"I am afraid I must bring sad news; tomorrow morning Catherine will be returning to England."

There was a distinct gasp of horror from the young boy next to her, and she didn't dare look over to see his distraught face. She thought she heard Claudia gasp as well, but she was too busy staring at her hands to notice.

"What! No! Father, she cannot!" Petruccio cried, abandoning his artwork to stand up and turn to the redhead. "Lady Catherine, please—he must be wrong!"

She gave him a weak smile, "Sorry, Petruccio… I am. My, ah… my father sent a letter and he will be waiting for me in the morning—before you all wake. I'll be gone."

"But it is so sudden!" Federico spoke up, although Catherine knew his father had told him. She had figured it out herself when the young man had continuously given her morose looks throughout the day when they were actually around one another.

"Surely she could stay another day?" Maria inquired as well, and she did a good job of hiding her knowing, too.

Claudia made a face, "How could he not give her more notice? Surely—."

"It is out of my hands, my dear. Her father must return to England as soon as possible, and has made his arrangements. I tried to sway him, but he is adamant," Giovanni explained, and held up his hands for peace when it appeared the others would complain more. "There is nothing I can do. I am sorry, but Catherine will depart before you all wake. You would do well to say your good-bye's tonight."

The tightness grew ever tighter and it was like a knife had been stuck in her gut. Catherine couldn't even look at them, hating this. The reasons were a lie, but she really was leaving them, and she hated it. She might have only known them a month, but it _hurt_ to go. They were like family, and now she would lose it a second time. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair!

"Please tell me it is not true!" the youngest Auditore wailed as he practically threw himself at Catherine, wrapping his arms tight around her. Her eyes stung, but no tears came as she hugged him back even tighter, pressing her face into his hair.

"I'm sorry, Petruccio. It's true. I'm leaving."

"You cannot!"

"I know… I know. I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking his head.

Giovanni sighed as he came over, touching his son's shoulder, "Petruccio…"

"No!" he shouted back, wrenching away and wiping at his eyes as tears started to form. "You should not let her go!"

Before his father could say anything, the young boy ran off down the hall and out of sight. His father sighed deeply, though raised his hand to stop his wife when she stood.

He shook his head, "I will speak with him."

Giovanni went after his son, and Catherine sat even more awkwardly. She briefly glanced at the others; Claudia had a look she couldn't particularly read; Maria was sorrowful for her child, though spared the redhead a sympathetic smile; Ezio gazed at her with concern, having already known, and his brother was much the same.

"So, ah… yeah. I'm, ah… leaving," she spoke up after the silence permeated for far too long. She tried to laugh, but it came out far more pitiful than she wanted, and even her shrug didn't help. It was still too hard to look at them proper, but she tried.

"Your father—he… he is… he is so—so improper! To call on you so suddenly!" Claudia began, her brows furrowed together and her fingers gripping her needlework tight. "He should have given you at least a few days!"

"He's… he's pretty busy. Sorry… um… I'll, ah… well, I know we didn't get along much, but I'll still miss you, Claudia," Catherine replied back, able to smile a bit more sincerely now. A flicker of what could have been pain appeared on the young woman's face as she suddenly stood, turning away.

"W-well, I will certainly not miss you or your callous father! You may as well as just leave now!" she snapped, bringing her head up, and trudging past. The redhead chuckled softly, relieved to know the woman didn't hate her still—she wouldn't have acted so hurt otherwise. Oh, they weren't quite friends, she knew, but if she thought the Auditore's family, it was possible they felt the same. It seemed to be that way with the Auditore's daughter, anyways. Sort of.

"Claudia," Catherine called out, and, to her surprise, the woman paused. The redhead chuckled again, "I'm glad I met you… and… I guess if you remember anything… remember Beauty and the Beast. It might help with that boy you like."

The daughter's face turned a light shade of red. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then shut it tight. Her eyes met the redhead's for a split second before she turned back around, made a huff of sorts, and charged off. Catherine knew that was as good as she would get tonight. She wished she could have more time to give Claudia a proper good-bye, but that would have to do. Sure, she hadn't come to _really_ like her as she had Petruccio or her brothers, but the young woman was a good person and when she wasn't being caustic, she was fun to be around. Sometimes. Enough, anyways.

"Ah, do not mind her, my dear," Maria spoke up softly as she grasped Catherine's hand, squeezing lightly. "She has never been good at saying good-bye."

The older woman tugged on her hand then, urging her up, and the redhead complied. Maria embraced her, and Catherine could not help wrapping her arm back around, squeezing her tight. The Auditore matriarch was nowhere near her mother, but she had certainly been a mother-like figure and had taught her so much. She didn't think she'd ever use her lessons much, but even then it had been worth it. All of it had been worth it. She had met Leonardo through her and been taught how to integrate into Renaissance society so much easier. She knew she would be far more lost than she had been without her.

"Ah, we will miss you, my dear. You must write us," Maria hummed as she released Catherine and cupped her cheek.

The redhead nodded, "I will. I promise. I will."

"I will hold you to it. Now, I will go and ease Claudia. Unfortunately, for all her apparent pride, she has a kind heart."

A final moment was shared between them—Maria just looking at Catherine with that smile; the kind a mother gives. She rubbed her thumb along the redhead's freckled cheek, speaking those silent words; the ones that ripped into you deeper than any real knife could. They were the ones that you needed to say but you couldn't, so you just left them there. It was all they could do, and Maria was no different as she placed a small kiss on Catherine's forehead and then left her there. The redhead watched her go until she was out of sight and then sighed before she looked to Ezio and Federico, whom had stood at last. They, too, had that similar expression. They had both known since the day before yesterday, and she imagined the guilt from her incident still remained. She could see it when they glanced to her cheek—the bruise was gone, but it may as well as have still been there—or at her collar, though the scar was covered by her shirt. She wished they wouldn't, but she couldn't stop them. She just wished she could have had more time to assure them it was alright.

"So, uh… I guess only Claudia and Petruccio got the big shock," Catherine chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her head as she glanced up at them every few moments.

Federico sighed as he came over and, much to her surprise, embraced her. She might have expected it from Maria and Petruccio, but the eldest child? Sure, they had become good friends and sparring partners, but it still felt odd—especially considering the decorum of the Renaissance. It was not unwanted, though, and she returned his embrace for the few moments he held it. He gave her one last reassuring squeeze before he released her, and she wished she it had eased her anxieties.

"Mother is right—we will miss you greatly. It may have only been a short time, but we have enjoyed all of it. Certainly, it was a joy to meet a woman like yourself. You are stronger than you may think—do not let anyone else say otherwise. And keep your head up. This is not the last you will see of us—I promise. We will come visit you in England ourselves if we must."

Catherine couldn't help laughing some, "It might be better if I come visit you instead."

"Either way, we will meet again. I swear it upon my honor as an Auditore, and we do not break our word," the young man grinned brightly and hugged her once more before he turned to allow Ezio to come forward. Unlike his brother, the young man was more reticent. He could almost not even meet her eyes, and she knew the guilt was pervading through him. Despite his usual self—that obnoxious, ridiculous, flirtatious boy—he felt regret stronger than most. She thought no less of him, though, and helped him take the steps by coming forward and embracing him first.

"Even if you're a pain in the ass, I'll miss you, too, Ezio," she sighed, and though it took longer than it should have, he hugged her back briefly; just a small squeeze.

"You already know I will miss you as well… and I am only a 'pain in the ass' because you like it," he snickered, and when she looked he had his trademark smirk on.

"Only because it means I get to kick your ass as payment," she chuckled back, releasing him, but then sighed. "I really am going to miss this. This place was… well, it was like a new home, kind of. England won't be the same anymore."

"You need only think of your time here—these days we have spent together, and we will not be so far away. You will see," Federico hummed, his voice and face always a source of comfort.

"You know, I probably will. Not at first, but after a while. Although, there are _some_ things I'd like to forget—like your bad flirting," Catherine hummed, arms folded as she looked over at Ezio with a smirk and raised brow. The young man frowned, confused for a moment, but then laughed before he came closer, hands on his hips.

He smirked back knowingly, "Please, kitty-Cat, you enjoyed every moment of it."

"Only because it was _hilariously_ awful, although I suppose that's partly 'Rico's fault—he's been teaching you wrong all this time."

"Wha—Federico!" Ezio exclaimed, moving to punch his brother, but the elder easily dodged and pushed his sibling away, laughing.

"Catherine, how could you! You were not supposed to tell him!" he mock-scowled before laughing again when Ezio came after him. He promptly pulled the redhead to him, her back to his chest, using her as a shield. "Ezio, calm down! I only did it because it was funny!"

"That just makes it worse!"

"You still have gotten plenty of women!"

"That is beside the point! Now stop hiding behind her, coward!"

"Yes, please—I do not appreciate being a human meat shield," Catherine snorted, arms folded, but instead of releasing her, Federico suddenly grabbed her from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her up to tote her with him. She made a garbled sound of surprise as he rushed to the other side of the couch, putting it between him and Ezio with Catherine still as his shield.

"Forgive me, Catherine, but as long as I have you he will not lay a hand on me!" the elder brother laugh as the redhead squirmed. She huffed for a moment before she rolled her eyes, planted her heels into the ground, shoved her hips out while she pushed her shoulders against his chest, jammed her thumbs into his grip, and managed to break his grip. She silently thanked wrestling as she dashed away.

"Get 'em, Ezio!" she laughed with delight, and watched as the young man literally leaped over the couch. If Federico hadn't moved, they would have collided, but the chase had only begun. It was all laughs and curses and promises of pain, but most of all it was fun. Federico dodging his brother, Ezio nearly getting him every time, and Catherine avoiding becoming a meat shield or getting caught up in it again. Eventually she took refuge in a chair in the corner, giggling behind her hands. It was there, though, that she came to really understand the Auditore's words—in a way.

These moments, the ones where she felt so at ease and happy and like the outside world or the Clock in her pocket didn't exist—these were the days she cared about. These were the ones she should always hold closest and think of, and would not regret the parting, but rather feel joy to have lived them. Otherwise, what had been the point? Why bother to have experienced the moments if you would only regret them later? No, she would think back always on this time and love every moment and feel the joy, and await the day she might return. She knew it might be years before then, but she would have these memories to hold to, and that made it alright.

_'Yeah. I'll be alright,'_ she thought silently as she smiled at the brothers, and she knew in her heart it was no white lie. The two had finally clashed, and though Ezio had tried to gain the upper hand, Federico was winning anyways. Catherine would miss them the most. That, there was no doubt of, but now parting was not so bad. She would still be sad, but she could endure and hope to meet them again. This was no _true_ ending—it was merely a change of path, but it could cross theirs again. She imagined it would, anyways, since she would not be so far away, and that was something worth being happy for.

"'Rico, I think Ezio has learned his lesson," Catherine chuckled after she'd watched the elder brother keep his younger in a headlock for at least a minute or so. Federico looked up, brow raised, but chuckled as he relented and released his brother.

"As the lady wishes—hey!" he laughed when Ezio got one final punch to his side in.

"That is for giving me poor advice!" the younger brother huffed before looking to the redhead and winking. "Allow me to repay your kindness later, my lady, and give you a proper send off."

"Ooh, so tempting—I'm practically dropping my pants now," she cooed back, only to laugh a moment later. "But no thanks. Watching you two make fools of yourself was a good enough send off."

"Always happy to be of service," Federico winked as he bowed, garnering a giggle from her.

"I see you are all enjoying yourself," a voice spoke up, and all three looked to the hallway to find Giovanni there, smiling broadly at them. His sons grinned back cheekily, as did Catherine, though hers faltered when his gaze settled on her. "Catherine, Petruccio wishes to speak to you. I made him understand, but he is still upset."

The redhead sighed deeply, "I thought he would be… I'll be up there in a moment. First, I need to say good-bye again to your goofball sons."

Both continued to grin, and where happy to accept her hugs and words of comfort and farewell. This time she felt no knife in her gut and could genuinely smile at them before she slipped by Giovanni and ascended the stairs. She paused at the top, though, staring at Petruccio's slightly open door, and sighed again. Though it had been much easier to say good-bye to the older siblings, she knew doing the same for the little boy would be much harder. Yet, it had to be done, and so she trudged onward with much reluctance, pushing the door open just a bit more and slipping inside. There she found Petruccio sitting on his bed, legs dangling over the side, and his hands in his lap. He did not look up as she came over and sat beside him, and she knew he was still deeply upset despite his father talking to him. Catherine could only smile softly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her chest. It was not long before his arms found their way around her, too.

"Petruccio… I'm sorry—I have to go. I don't want to, but I have to," she spoke softly and the boy clung to her harder.

"Father said the same, but it is not fair! You arrived here only a short while ago!"

She rubbed his head, "I know… but... but I promise I'll come back one day. I'll write you letters, too. I'll do all of that, and when I come back you'll be all strong and grown up, okay? You'll be a proper gentleman and a knight, and I'll be your lady."

"But I want you to stay—who else will tell me stories and draw such amazing things?" he whimpered, and she sighed softly. Catherine pulled him from her for a moment, but only to place a small kiss on his forehead. She wasn't one to do such things, but she knew he needed it along with the touch on his cheek, her hand cupping his face.

"You will tell them. You have stories in you, too. You can write them and draw great things… and if it helps… I'll write new stories for you and send them in the letters. You can tell them to your family. I know your mother will enjoy it, and Claudia will, too, even if she doesn't say it."

"It is not the same!" he huffed, but there was a hint of defeat in his voice. _That_ caused her gut to twist, although she knew it was best. Now that he had accepted the truth, he could move beyond his sadness. However, when he looked to her with such pain, the knife he'd plunged into her twisted more. "I am going to lose my dearest friend… I will have no one to play with."

Catherine's heart panged for him, "You'll find someone. Your brothers will come around—you just have to ask. It'll be fine, I promise. And when they can't play… you can write or draw or find something to do. You are a smart, creative boy, Petruccio. Your mind is full of wonders—you just have to find them. You can do it. I know you can."

The young Auditore looked at her, and though her words had brought him some comfort, there was still a great deal of doubt. She knew he would feel it for far longer than she had, but he would be okay. He had his family and they would help. She would certainly write to him, too.

"Okay," he sighed at last, and she smiled back gently.

"That's my favorite and best and bravest knight… now… how about one more story? This one is about a land where animals can speak and were ruled by a pride of lions, and it follows the story of Simba, son of the King Mufasa, who will face tragedy, love, and the great evil that was his uncle Scar. Would you like to hear it?"

The young man nodded, rubbing at his eyes briefly, and Catherine chuckled softly as she began her tale of The Lion King, and was glad to see Petruccio grow a little more at ease and perhaps a bit happier with each word she spoke.

**-O-**

What had started as one story turned into two and then three, and then the boy had fallen asleep. Catherine was happy to help him do so, but she was also tired now and was glad when Annetta came in to help her tuck in Petruccio and also give her a candle for the lack of light. She managed to get in a proper good-bye to the maid as well, thanking her for all she'd done, and embraced her much to the woman's surprise. She had left flustered, but with a smile anyways, and the redhead was able to do the same. She paused, though, at Claudia's door, and considered talking to her; to say some words of comfort, but thought better of it. She hadn't quite mastered how to converse with her yet, and she had faith Maria had done what was needed. She hadn't been called on, either, and the house was quiet, which meant everyone was most likely sleeping, so Catherine continued on to her room.

She yawned as she slipped off her vest, though kept her pants and under-shirt on. Boots were kicked off by her bed, and the Clock and candle were set onto her night stand. She was just about to slip under the covers when there was a gentle rap on the door. She paused, blinking, and then looked to the closed entryway. She frowned with puzzlement as she came over and opened it, and was even more puzzled when she found Ezio there in shirt and pants, too. His hair was undone, and though he was tired, there was a sense of purpose to his expression.

"Ezio?" she inquired, furrowing her brows at him, and he chuckled a little.

"I know we said our farewells earlier, but I wish to give you more," he began, and suddenly gripped at something underneath his shirt—a thin line of leather. He pulled it over his head and out from his shirt, revealing the pendant with an "A" inscribed onto it and with a red gem in the center. Catherine could only stare stupidly for a few moments before garbled word of confusion came forth.

"Wha—this… this is your—Ezio, I can't take this!" she hissed.

He ignored her as he took her hand and placed it in her palm, curling her fingers over it, "I want you to have it. Call me foolish if you wish, but I feel you should—if only to remember us by for more than just memories."

"Ezio, no—I can't," she replied, shaking her head, and tried to give it back, but he kept her hand closed.

"Please, Catherine. I want you to have it," he urged, though sighed when he saw her expression did not change. "Consider it… ah… let us make a bargain then, you stubborn woman… Take this with you to England, and when you come back, you can return it to me. Consider it a promise you _will_ come back and see us again."

Catherine looked between him and her hand, trying to find some way to argue, but she knew there would be nothing she could do. He was just as stubborn as she was, and she knew he would not relent. His bargain was reasonable, she supposed. She knew would come back one day—she had to, and she was not truly far away. Still, she could not fathom why he would give it to her, but she could not sway him, either.

Sighing herself, she nodded, "Alright. I'll hold onto it for you."

"Thank-you," he beamed before pulling it from her hands and carefully slipped it over her head and then looked at her. The way he did so made her flush and her cheeks warm and she didn't really know why. He had looked at her plenty of time before, and he was just a stupid, foolish boy. That, and he wasn't even teasing her. This was no time to get flustered. Of course, he made it worse by continuing on, "It suits you."

"It—it suits you better, dummy… but… but if we're striking bargains, you just better keep yours, okay?" she grumbled back, not really sure what she was saying anymore.

He flashed a cheeky grin, "Oh?"

"Yeah," she huffed, pushing him playfully. She couldn't help smiling, though her cheeks were still burning. "Stay a good person—don't change that, okay? Or I'm going to kick your ass when I come back and never let you have this back—not until you become good again."

Ezio laughed, batting away her arm, "I will do my best."

She scoffed a little, folding her arms at him, and inciting a silent staring contest. However, as it went on, their huffing and puffing and cheekiness sobered and there was a more gentle atmosphere between them—enough so that Catherine unfurled her arms and chuckled softly.

"I'll so you later then, Ezio. It might be a while before I can come back, but I will."

"I will hold you to it," he hummed softly, and then, to her surprise, suddenly stepped forward and placed a small peck on her cheek. Her cheeks had only been warm before—now they were scalding hot, and she could only stare as he laughed lightly and stepped away. "Until we meet again, kitty-Cat."

Then he was gone, leaving Catherine to just stare; bewildered and heart racing and face on fire. She didn't understand at all, and yet she wasn't as worried as she thought she would be by it. She was definitely flustered, although once she had closed the door behind her, she started to smile—stupidly so. It was ridiculous, but she did it, and she didn't really know why, but there it was. It only got worse as she held up the pendant, rubbing her finger across the design. Her heart fluttered a bit more at his gift, but the moment she started to think further on it, she knew she'd gone too far and shoved it back. There was no need for it and she was leaving tomorrow. Of course, she would keep the gift, but she stuffed it inside her shirt to keep it out of sight and out of mind as she crawled into bed.

Things were never that easy, though, and while she was only awake for a little while longer, all her thoughts had been filled by the necklace and the one who'd given it to her.

**-O-**

**August 5, 1476**

**Florence, Italy**

There was little light in the sky as they walked, and few people out. If Catherine had bothered to count, it would have been maybe twenty at most that she had seen as Giovanni led her through the streets of _Firenze_. He had worn his Assassin gear for this, no doubt to hide his true identity. She, likewise, wore a hooded cloak over her boy clothes, and made sure to keep her head low. She didn't expect anyone to really care—even the guards didn't give them a passing glance if they managed to come across one. Certainly, it seemed as though the city were deserted in the wee hours, and she would have believed it except for the few stragglers she saw or the sounds of shops preparing for the day.

"It is not much farther," Giovanni spoke up, having no doubt heard her yawning quite a few times. It was to be expected—she had been woken up even before there was light in the sky and finished their final preparations. Her chest had already been taken to the location ahead of time by servants, and so only the walk with the head of the Auditore family remained. They'd taken his secret passage—just in case—and now they were here, somewhere fairly far from the _Palazzo_. It had least been a thirty minute walk, and she recognized none of the buildings. She trusted his direction, though, and had no qualms with everything—except perhaps the early hour, but she was not a complete stranger to doing so.

"Will Mario be there?" she asked as she walked just a step behind him, and he shook his head.

"No, he has been busy training his men and arming the city, so he sent his Captain and another. Do not worry—Mario's men are as trustworthy as any."

"Oh, I wasn't worried. You wouldn't put me in danger like that—unless you're really an evil mastermind?" she hummed, managing to find a sense of humor despite legitimately being tired. The older man looked to her and chuckled.

"No, I am not, and you are right. I would not put you into danger," he mused as he turned his gaze back ahead. A moment later, he pointed. "There. The exit. Come—the sooner you are off, the sooner you will reach _Monteriggioni_. It would be better if you did before nightfall. It is a safe location, certainly, but the wilds between still hold dangers."

"Right," Catherine nodded and picked up her pace as he did. They reached the exit soon enough. It was at a tall arch in the wall, sealed by a gate, although the metal contraption was raised high. On both sides stood two guards each, and there was even a stall with horses next to a stand that read "Travel". The redhead briefly looked to Giovanni when the guards glanced there way, but he showed no change. He merely gave a peaceful "good morning", to which they returned and paid neither him nor her any mind. She didn't know why she thought they would, and let the notion slip away as they exited out into the open. Before her was a very different scene. She had to pause to look back at the inner workings of the city, tall buildings and lots of people, and then to the vast expanse that was the outside. There was only one or two structures nearby and they were small and meek. The rest of the area was taken up by a dirt road, grasses, shrubs, trees, and then still-dark skyline.

It was so different, but Giovanni was no doubt used to it; he kept her moving to the right—coincidentally the same direction where a sign said _Monteriggioni_ was. Catherine figured her escort might be near, but it was about a minute before she finally caught sight of a carriage of sorts, though it was just wooden with an open back and no cover. There was a man on the front seat holding the reigns of the two horses, and another stood at the rear. Both were clad in similar garb; dark vests with light pants and dark boots to match. They wore sashes around their waist where they'd shoved their scabbards into, and all together their clothes were a bit tattered. The man standing next to the carriage was clad a bit better than his compatriot and he certainly held himself like he was of higher class. Catherine suspected he was the Captain, and it was confirmed for her when the man extended his hand and Giovanni took it tightly.

"It's good to see you are well, Giovanni," the man grinned.

The older man chuckled, "The same goes for you. I would catch up, but we are short on time, and I would rather you return to _Monteriggioni_ before nightfall."

"Of course. Mario said you would… and I see this our new guest. Greeting, my Lady," the man rumbled, bowing his head.

"Catherine, this is Mario's Captain, Ottavio Celini. And Ottavio, this is Catherine Wolfe. I trust you will keep her safe."

"Of course. You have ours and Mario's word, which means if we _don't _keep her safe, he'll slaughter us himself," Ottavio nodded with a wry grin, which brought forth a bright laugh from Catherine. He motioned to the cart and when she stepped over to look she found her chest and packs of supplies in the back. "Your things are already ready to go. We leave when you're ready."

Catherine nodded and turned to Giovanni, forcing a small smile, "Well… I guess this… is good-bye, huh?"

"For now," he chuckled back, reaching over and grasping her shoulder warmly. "I believe we will meet again, though—I intend to hear of your progress, and I might visit should I find time. You are not so far away… do take care of yourself, Catherine, and remain strong. You have it there in your heart—simply hold onto it.

"I will. I have to find a way home, after all," she grinned and then paused, just watching the older man. He returned the gesture, but it morphed into a surprised look as she suddenly embraced him. He let out a small laugh as he returned it, patting her back, and then held her shoulders again when she pulled away. She grinned, "I'll see you around, Giovanni… and thanks for everything. You did more than anyone could have expected."

"You will come to find there is more goodness in this world than you think, though it may be not be so obvious… and I will 'see you around', too. Now, go on. _Monteriggioni_ awaits," the older man replied, motioning to the carriage with his head. She nodded and he walked with her as Ottavio hauled himself onto the front step, taking the reins from his comrade. Giovanni meanwhile held his hand for Catherine to take, helping her up into the cart. She settled down next to her chest and looked to the older man as Mario's Captain made a distinct "ha" and got the horses moving at an easy trot. The redhead's gaze never left the man's, and it was comforting to see him stay all the way until they'd pass beyond the trees. The Assassin and the city vanished then, and the long ride to her new home began.

* * *

**12 – **_End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's chapter 12! Unfortunately, Catherine is officially on her way to Monteriggioni, but it has to be. Things gotta go down to start some changes for Catherine... and yeah. Things gonna happen and shit will go down after chapter 13 and the end of Act I. Right. So... Ah, yeah! Ezio gave Catherine the same pendant he gave Cristina if you guys figured that out or saw that memory in Brotherhood. Sooo... guess who isn't getting the pendant, hehehehe ID It's important, of course, but ya'll will see why eventually. But yeah, this thing is important and all._

_And ah, yeah. So. Today was the day to say good-bye's, and it was a bitter sweet moment. She's sad, but she'll be strong, though, and do her best to follow her teaching: to think of the good times and be happy. It'll be tough, but she can do it._

_Anyways, not much to say this chapter, so stay put! We got a big change for 'Cat coming next chapter, so get ready! The Act I finale should be coming next week!_


	14. Blinding

**TMWolf: **_Looks like my move didn't intervene too much although the chapter I was working on was a BIG one. Oh, man. It took forever to get out, but I got it done in time, so yay! Anyways, this is a big chapter guys, although not necessarily in length. Rather, it's the end of ACT I! Yep, we're coming to a close on the first act, Sojourner, and coming into the next one! :'D This will mark the start of a big change for 'Cat~_

_Soooo since we don't know much about Mario's men like his Captain, I'm taking some liberties here. Forgot to mention that last chapter. But yeah. OTTAVIO IS NOT NECESSARILY CANON BEYOND THAT I MADE HIM MARIO'S CAPTAIN (who was not named) WHICH TIES INTO SOME CANON STUFF. Otherwise, he is basically an OC. Like the other Auditore's, how I write Mario is based on how he was in the canon. I plan to stick as close as possible, but some stuff is my interpretation of how he is who he is._

_(I've also decided to add in something previous chapter to show that Ottavio is youngish-in his mid-twenties or something. There are... reasons for anyone who knows canon REALLY well ;))_

_Anyways, on to reviews!_

**_Britanika:_**_ Aww, thank-you sooooooooooooooo much! I really appreciate, and I hope this chapter is just as good for you! :'D_

**_Squid:_**_ Oh, yes. Yes she will... but no romance for a while *huffs* ;( And dang-that's a LOT of love then, ha ha ha._

_**xoxo**: Thanks a bunch for reviewing! For 6... well, based on what I read they weren't tooo different? They had some things different, but it was honestly hard to find a lot of proper information without having to go full-on written paper research, so I imagine I'm not completely accurate, ha ha. For ch 11... And thanks for saying I keep Claudia fairly realistic! I try to! :) I definitely won't be bashing her, but she will be... disagreeable for a while ha ha xD She _is _Claudia, after all! I plan to keep as realistic with her as possible, so do let me know if I seem like I'm not! And lastly, so glad to see you liked it! I hope you'll continue to! :D And hey, don't be too bummed-I update on a weekly basis!_

_Today's chapter title is from Florence + The Machine - Blinding. Technically I think the theme is a little off, but I find the words still fit the overall theme of the chapter :)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**13 **– _Blinding_

* * *

_Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state  
A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake  
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber  
Until I realize that it was you who held me under_

_Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids_  
_Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs_

* * *

**August 5, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

It was well into the evening by the time they reached _Monteriggioni_, and Catherine guessed it took them almost twelve hours or more to reach the city by the dirt road. It was to be expected, she supposed. The horses had been kept at a steady pace, probably no more than four miles per hour, and they'd stopped to water and rest the beasts at about noon. They'd taken their breaks, too—nature called more than once for the men, and Catherine had to scuttle in the woods to relieve herself once or twice, too. Otherwise they had gone unmolested during the trip and there had been few, if any other people on the road. She vaguely recalled two men on horses and then an old man driving a cart full of supplies with his donkey. Otherwise, the only other people were those who were out and about on their land the road carved through. Some waved, but most just went about their business—even when they trod through what looked like a small town along the way. The Captain probably told her the name, but she had forgotten it and whatever it was known for not long after.

Mario's men themselves were enjoyable company. It had been mostly silence at first, but soon enough the Captain had inquired about her; asking where she was from and how she'd come to meet Giovanni. He asked if she was an Assassin, too, and at first she was taken aback by his bluntness, but then recalled how Mario was also an Assassin, so it would have been reasonable for his men to at least know about it, too. His Captain would, anyways. She told him as much as she had allowed the Auditore family, and he was kind and courteous about it; he expressed his interest and intrigue—she could tell it was more-so the complimentary form of it—and even talked about himself. He had met Mario some time ago, although he'd forgotten how long exactly. The man had saved his life, and so Ottavio owed Mario a great debt. For it, he joined his band of "merry men", as he put it, and he had never regretted it for the ten years he'd fought for Mario.

Catherine learned not long after the other man went by Michelangelo and had only been with the "merry band" maybe seven years, but he was just as loyal. Mario did that apparently—invoked a sense of loyalty that just _happened_. You would start off hating the man, but if you gave it a little more time, suddenly you were putting your life on the line for him and five years had passed. Michelangelo contested personally to that, and mentioned he had wanted to punch Mario in the face at first, but now he would take his own life before he harmed or betrayed their leader.

It granted the redhead some relief, and she certainly felt more comfortable going to the city, although it could not completely cure her apprehension. It was a new place, after all, and though Ottavio and Michelangelo were vouching for her new guardian, she didn't know him. She could only hope he was as good as they said and could help her.

_'I guess I'm going to find out,'_ Catherine sighed mentally when the Captain called to her and pointed. She followed his gaze as they rounded a bend between two houses on farmland—the fields stretched all the way to the tree line far off in the distance—and revealed a tall, stalwart stone wall. It went for a long ways around before curving, so she assumed the city was circular. There was a good chunk of open space between it and the surrounding trees and hills, which she figured worked all the way around. The walls were extremely tall and four towers ran along the front, two at the edge, one in the middle, and two at the midpoint between the center and edges. The one in the middle of the entrance was larger and made up the part of the wall that jut out. Flags adorned the stones, and the archway into the city went maybe a third of the way up. Iron spiked dangled down from the top, the gate was lifted up at the moment, and behind it she could just barely make out an Assassin symbol. Outside the walls were a few stalls and items, and then a stable where she saw men and a few boys working. As they got closer, she could hear the horses inside.

"So this is _Monteriggioni_. Well, the outside," she chuckled as she continued to gaze all around.

Ottavio laughed, "Yeah, just the outside, but she's still a thing of beauty. And if you look close, you'll see an old dog standing at the entrance."

"Ha! Don't let him hear you call him that! You'll be running the training for the new men for a week!" Michelangelo barked, grinning, and his comrade just grinned right back.

"He knows I say it behind his back, no use trying to lie about it!"

"So you're sure he won't kill me then?" Catherine mused as she looked and found who they were talking about. He was still too far away to make out exact details, but he stood with his arms clasped behind his back. It reminded her of how soldiers were.

The Captain waved, "Nah, don't worry about him. He won't hurt you. He's actually a bit of a softie underneath."

"Okay, _definitely_ don't let him hear you say _that_," the other man hummed, but Ottavio just grinned.

"Anyways, don't worry. You're also his guest, so he'll treat you as if you were another citizen here. He'll look out for you and keep you safe. You're also a part of the Brotherhood—in your own way. He will protect you."

"Oh," was all she could reply, and then it was quiet as they closed the distance between them and city. Ottavio brought the carriage to the stables where he handed the creatures off to the stable hand, telling them to feed them plenty of oats. Catherine made to move her things, but the Captain told her to not worry—they would bring it to the _Villa_ for her. Rather, she needed to meet Mario, so she gave a small nod, hopped off, and turned her attention to the man waiting at the entrance. She sighed softly, straightened herself, and made her way over. She was more nervous than she thought, but she knew how to deal with it.

"Greeting, Mario, sir," Catherine began as she stood before him, bowing as respectfully as she hoped she could. The man regarded her for a moment, his face stern and Spartan-like. She briefly thought she had done something wrong and the Captain had lied, but then the older man suddenly smirked and chuckled as he rubbed his chin.

"So. You are Catherine Wolfe—the Order's latest, and perhaps most puzzling surprise."

"So… you know… everything?" she asked, and he nodded. "Then, ah, yes. And you're Mario Auditore—Giovanni's brother."

He nodded again, laughing this time, "Indeed, although he may be reluctant to admit it. We are blood, though, and we are of the Order. As such, welcome to _Monteriggioni_, Catherine. It may not be what you are used to, nor may it be as lavish and pompous as _Firenze_, but is a good place. You will see—and then you will not what to leave."

"I'm getting the feeling you don't like _Firenze_," she mused wryly. Mario smirked as he turned, motioning for her to follow, and led her through the entrance.

"Ah, for now. This year we are enemies, but the next we are allies. I have stopped keeping track. Regardless, I am willing to set it aside any antipathy in this case. Though I may not be an Assassin, and sometimes I prefer to leave the Order in my brother's hands, it is much safer you are here. But enough—we may talk of that tomorrow. You must be exhausted."

"Well, maybe a little. It's hard to believe, but sitting down in a cart for a full day can do that. And, ah, I hope I'm not being rude, but… it also makes one hungry, too," she replied, wincing a little when she felt her stomach growl. To her relief, the man just laughed.

"I believe I may be able to help with that. It will not be nearly as lavish as with Giovanni, but we make do. Also, I must apologize. The city has been in a state of disrepair the last few years. We have hit some hard times, but the city is strong, and you will be find what you need."

"Considering my situation, I'm just glad I have the help. I've slept on floors and been comfy before—although I do prefer a bed."

He grinned at her, "Do not worry—the _Villa_ has plenty of rooms and plenty of beds. You may choose any of them."

"Uh—oh, uh, wow, thanks, are you sure?"

"You might as well. The rooms would go to waste otherwise."

"Where do you and your men sleep then?" she asked as they passed by buildings and into a market area. Mario hadn't been joking. The city looked deserted. Empty—even with candles lit inside some houses. The homes and stores looked broken and beaten, too, and some even had boards over them. The streets were dirty and there was dust in quite a few places. Any gardens showed a great lack of vernal beauty and trees were mostly barren of leaves. It was a sad sight, but even so the buildings looked like they could continue to last a life time.

Oddly enough, she thought it was fitting, and that it reflected the leader. It hadn't escaped her that Mario looked old—older than his brother. His hair was still mostly black and slicked back, but there were gray hairs on the side and wrinkles on his face. He carried himself strongly, though, and she almost wanted to say the stress was what made him look older. He certainly had seen a lot; the scar along his left eye—now white and gray—was a sure sign of it. She was curious as to how he got it, but didn't dare ask. Beyond that, his clothes were of some elegance, though he was by no means as noble looking or pristine as his brother. Rather, he looked more like a soldier, which, of course, fit him. His tunic was composed of reds and gold stripes, he wore long gloves and bracers, and on his legs were tall boots. In his belt he put his scabbard, and from his shoulders a cap flowed with the same symbol as on the _Palazzo_ and the city's walls. She had also noticed he wore the Assassin symbol on one of his shoulders.

So this was Mario Auditore.

She had to say she kind of liked him.

"They stay within the barracks, as do I. If my men must sleep upon cots, then I will as well," he answered, pulling her from her thoughts. Catherine couldn't help grinning and liking Mario a bit more. She could see why his men followed him.

She glanced around some more at the shops, "I don't suppose I'll get to look around the city tomorrow?"

"I intended for you to do so—it would be best you learn of your surroundings, although I would ask you not venture beyond the hills unless I or one of my men are with you. I cannot guarantee your safety out there," he replied, pausing to give her a serious look. She paused herself, realizing just how serious he was actually being, and nodded. He smiled again, "Excellent. It is good to see you are smart—my men would do well to learn from you."

"I think that's just a man's stubbornness—and there's no cure for that," she grinned back and the man laughed loudly and deeply. He paused yet again as they ascended stairs to where a dry fountain of the assassin symbol sat against a wall that split into two sets of stair up to the higher part of the city.

He grasped her shoulder, his grin wide, "I believe you and I will get along well. I only wish Giovanni had prepared me for your wit."

"Don't worry—I tend to be wittier when tired and hungry. I'm generally pretty reserved. Sometimes. I make exceptions," she chuckled. Mario's grin only widened before he again motioned her to follow. He took her up the right side to the second level where a large, withered training arena awaited her. It was empty now, but she could see some wooden swords lying about, deep groves in the ground, and some chips in the stonework of the arena's barrier. Jutting out on either side all the way to the city walls was open space besides the doors of a few buildings. Like the rest, they were worn down, but no boards adorned their walls. She briefly saw a man in a tunic similar to Ottavio's step out on the left, and assumed they were the barracks. When she asked, Mario confirmed for her, but then kept her moving.

The _Villa_ was before her then, and she marveled at its grand size. It was more like a palace—a _real_ palace—than a simple villa. It was large, and despite its boards and worn appearance, it was still palatial. She'd never been to a place so amazing except maybe when she visited the Harry Potter Castle or what remained of her family one, but those were actual castles. This was close, though, with what looked like three stories and then a high tower at the center where a flag swayed limply. All in all it had the potential to be just as radiant. It was just hidden beneath a layer of disuse.

"Welcome to the _Villa Auditore_," Mario chuckled, holding out his arms. Catherine smiled at it, eyes roaming around to the sides where on each were patches of what looked like a garden that was in desperate need of care. She could hardly imagine what it looked like in its prime, but it must have been amazing.

"It's something," she smiled and again followed him. He opened the door for her, and her eyes widened at the sight of the inside. Despite the rough exterior, the interior was still pristine with its white walls and staircase and shiny floors. From the ceiling an intricate chandelier hung, lit with countless candles. There was a wide staircase to the second floor where she could see various arches into rooms and a few doors. There were plenty on the floor level as well, although most appeared to be archways into other areas rather than bedrooms.

"As I said, you may choose any room you wish as yours, although they are all on the second floor. Meals are taken in the main room through that hallway—you will see it. There is a servant's quarters near the back end, and the servant's do remain here, though there are only a handful. They help keep the _Villa_ clean—at least on the inside—and help feed the men. You may explore it as you wish," Mario explained, and she nodded as she listened carefully. He motioned towards the stairs. "Now, go find a room so my men may bring your chest. Feel free to change as you see fit—you will be its only visitor for some time, I imagine."

Catherine bowed, "Thank-you, Mario. I'll do what I can to repay you."

"Find out what your trinket is and keep out of trouble, and you will repay it in full," he chuckled. "You will be safe here as well, so do not worry. Find your room, let Ottavio know, and then see to your meal. I would suggest you sleep after—there is much to speak of and show you tomorrow, I imagine, and you will want the time to settle in."

"I'll figure it out. Again, thank-you, Mario. Really. You and your brother are way too kind to me."

"It is in our nature to aid those who need it," Mario chuckled, gripping her shoulder and then again motioned her off. "Now, go. I will come for you in the morning."

She only nodded, and he left her be, departing through the entry arch way and shutting the door behind him. Catherine sighed then, looking around the place, and headed up the stairs. She marveled at every little thing around her, and spent more than she probably should have looking at each and every room. There was about six total, all extremely well furnished with beautiful beds and dressers and ornaments. In the end she decided on one in the left wing of the _Villa_. It reminded her the most of her room at the _Palazzo_, so she was happy to take it. She made sure to let Ottavio know when he appeared in the building and also thank and bid him goodnight before she went into the dining room. As Mario said there was a meal waiting, and though it was nothing like what Annetta had cooked, but it still filled her belly. She considered exploring some outside, but it wasn't long after her meal that she realized she _was_ exhausted, and so retired to her room. There, she considered contemplating her situation, and she actually did plan on doing it, but sleep came faster than she expected, and so hardly a thought passed her mind before the world of dreams overtook her.

**-O-**

**August 6, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine sighed as she stood in the middle of the study, alone amongst the bookshelf full of tomes, a large desk cluttered with papers and inks and quills, a pedestal near the far wall, and the large wooden frame where pages with words and pictures scribbled on them were set. She couldn't make much of them, although some of the pictures looked old and ancient, yet still well done, and they reminded her of the paper Giovanni had once shown her. She imagined they were important, but she left them be as she inspected the rug beneath her feet; a predominant scarlet red with gold embroidery. It matched the drapes and stood out well against the white tiles and more cream-colored wall siding.

It was essentially what the rest of the _Villa_ looked like. There were some exceptions—the room just around the corner was a study, of sorts, though was decorated with a model of the city, a single desk with a large, dusty book, and a few other objects here and there. Beyond that it stood out mostly for its reddish-brown, intricately designed floors and the wooden ceiling. The other different room looked like an armory, but for decoration—almost like going to a museum. Only, it was empty. That, Catherine had come to find, was a characteristic that dominated the _Villa_. Beyond the servants, she was literally the only one here, and though the rooms were furnished, anything that wasn't a bedroom or study was essentially occupied only by dust. To make matters worse, there was a distinct feeling when she walked through the halls that more belonged here; that it had once truly been a palace, but now it was but the vestigial remains that somehow kept strong.

It was so large and grand, and yet it had no life to it—not like the _Palazzo_. It made her grieve; in part, for her missing the family in the city, but also because she wanted to do something about it, yet she had no idea where to start. She wasn't even sure there was anything she could do.

Sighing softly, she glanced to the left where an archway was opened and had a view of some of the gardens outside. A good ways back was the surrounding wall, and she surmised the _Villa_ was the end of the city. It was smaller than she expected, but then again, they had made a straight beeline for this place. She imagined the city might be wider than she thought, which would be nice if she was going to try and spend most of her time today looking around and getting used to things.

"Ah, I see you found the study easily enough. Good."

Catherine turned to find Mario and grinned, "Well, your servants made it easy by pointing the way."

"That would help," the older man hummed, and she noted he wore reds again, but in slightly brighter hues. He still wore his cape, though, along with his gloves and boots, and his blade remained in his belt. "I hope the _Villa_ was to your liking?"

"Oh, yes. It's beautiful and the beds were comfy," she smiled with a nod, yet Mario raised a brow.

"But?" he asked, and she winced. She wasn't surprised he had noticed her hesitance. He was an Assassin, or at least a sect of it. He was also Giovanni's brother, though, so he had Assassin blood in him. He probably even had Eagle Vision.

"It's just… well… I guess the best way to describe it is… um… overly spacious?"

He chuckled, "You mean 'empty'. I am aware, and like the city I grieve for its former luster, but my attentions is required for more pressing matters. But worry not over it—your mind should be focused elsewhere. You came here with a purpose."

"Right. The Clock," the redhead hummed, and when she noticed Mario's look, she pulled it from her pocket and held it out for him to see. He reached out to touch it, but she pulled back, shaking her head. "Don't—it burned Giovanni when he did."

"I thought he only exaggerated… but… no. No, I know the power of these things. It is why I was hesitant to allow you here at first… So. This Clock of yours controls time and it also a… a library, of sorts—in your mind?"

She nodded as she touched at the dial, "Yeah... I mean, it only did it once. Maybe twice, but that… that was different, but it definitely brought me from the future. I don't expect you to believe that—I don't think Giovanni ever _really_ did—but it did. And I know things I shouldn't. It warms up when it gives me the information, and then I just kind of always remember it."

"Do you know the depth of its knowledge?" the older man inquired, rubbing his chin with a frown. She couldn't help the sliver of unease that went through her at the sound of his tone. Like Giovanni it was very serious, but she felt Mario was more cautious—more wary of it. Did he know more of Pieces of Eden than his brother? And if so, what had made him become so concerned by their power?

"No. I don't know much, to be honest. Giovanni—and myself, actually—were hoping the answers or at least a hint to them might be here."

Mario sighed slightly, "And they might, although even I am not sure. Our father and grandfather and his father before him made this a sanctuary for the Assassins and stored their knowledge here. Event those pages—part of the Codex written by Altair, one of our greatest and most revered—are words of wisdom of our heritage, and of the Pieces of Eden. There may yet be secrets in the books here that I have not been able to decipher, but your artifact may."

"Are you sure? I mean… well, I guess it just seems like you're all for this pretty quick, but even Giovanni was apprehensive about it."

Again the man sighed, though more deeply and ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to age briefly, and she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. She had to ask, though—if only to ease her own worries.

"I admit… I am… not fond of Pieces of Eden. But I understand the dangers of your artifact, and in this case it would be best you learn to at least understand its powers—if only to know how to keep it safe. And for that, all the knowledge I and the _Villa_ have is at your disposal."

"Well, um… I thank-you then… And, uh, I guess the same rules apply: don't tell anyone besides us?"

Finally, he chuckled, "Indeed. Though my men are fiercely loyal to me and thus serve the Assassin cause, they are not as tightly bound to it as my brother and I are. It would be best to keep your Clock secret from them and any in this city. If you ever need speak to me of it, simply come find me and we will return here."

"Alright. I can do that. It's basically what I did with Giovanni. I don't suppose you want to know about the future, too, though? Now, I can't give specific stuff, buuut," she grinned back, and the older man smiled a bit more.

"I do not share in my brother's curiosities, though I am not opposed. Of course, that is if you managed to find me free to even speak to me of such things. You will come to find I am kept quite busy with my men and ensuring the city's safety. I have little time for else here. Indeed, I will be returning to their training after this. You may do as you like so as long as you remain within the city or near the walls, of course."

"I did want to look around before I got to studying. Will, ah… are there a lot of people here? And, ah, should I find some dresses or…?"

Mario waved his hand, "My brother may have been concerned with appearances, but you may wear as you wish here. Simply do not cause trouble. And, yes, there are a good number of people here, and though they are a hardy group, they, too, had dwindled, albeit only in number. There are some shops here and there, but mostly the city has become a fortress. Just mind yourself and you will be fine."

"Right. Any other rules?"

"Just do not bother the men while they train and remain out of the way of our work, if you can help it. Should you be unsure of anything or require something, simply ask me or Ottavio should I be busy. If you are hurt, there is a doctor in town and the maid here can tend to minor wounds. Meals are served at sunrise, noon, and sunset—you will have yours here rather than contend with my men in the Barracks. Oh, and should you find anything about your Piece of Eden… summon for me and meet me here."

Catherine nodded, "Alright. Got it."

"Excellent. Then I must be off. Remember: keep out of trouble, and you will be fine," Mario hummed, giving her a serious look for a moment before laughing, clapping her shoulder, and leaving her be. His demeanor puzzled the redhead, but she didn't mind it. It was certainly different from Giovanni, who had been suspicious right off the bat, but his brother seemed to have no qualms. That, or he wasn't worried she would betray him. That was a little unsettling, but then she remembered she had no reason to go against him, so there was no need to be concerned about it. Besides, she was here to learn about her Piece of Eden and help the brothers learn of it, too.

Taking in a deep breath of air, she let the thoughts pass. She had a city to see, after all, and she was wasting daylight. Thus, she ventured back through the study, glancing at the items there, and then out into the main entryway where some of the servants were already cleaning. She passed by them and out the entrance, which was open this time—probably from Mario going through it. She left it be as she ventured into the open. The sunlight was warm on her skin, although it was a little cloudy today, too. It helped brighten the city some, although that only really served to better show the dismal state of the buildings. She sighed at that, missing the grandeur of _Firenze_ more, but this was home now—or, well, at least a new place to live. She wasn't sure this place could be home.

"Still, need to see where I'll be for as long as this stupid Clock keeps me here," she rumbled, glaring down at the item in her pocket, and started her tour.

She ventured around the _Villa_ first, reading the labels on the pedestals. As she suspected, statues went there—specifically the roman gods and goddesses. She assumed they'd been long gone, though—the sockets where they would have fit into shows signs of wear from the weather. The entire garden had suffered a good degree of erosion, too, and even the sturdy, brick walls looked like they'd seen quite a lot, and yet they were still strong. She supposed the city had that going for it—it was stalwart. Despite any hardships it had faced, it was still continuing on and probably would for ages to come. Still, it would have been nice to see it at its full glory.

Once she'd done the full circle—she had paused to marvel at the back courtyard with its intricate back wall of the _Villa _and the fountain there, and gave the blocked off well a passing glance—she made down the main stairs. Already there was quite a few men out, most standing outside or leaning on the rails of the circular arena. Two men were going at inside, using wooden blades or punching and throwing sand or curses at one another. Training, obviously. Mario wasn't near them, though, and she didn't see Ottavio or Michelangelo, but they could have just been further along or in the Barracks. Some of the men noticed her looking and stared back. Some looks she didn't like, but she just nodded her head respectfully as she continued on, descending down the stairs to keep out of their way.

Thankfully, the city _was_ livelier than it had been yesterday, but that wasn't saying much. There were certainly people living here, though, and she bowed her head or gave a small wave if any noticed her. They looked a bit worse for wear, but preserving. She even saw a woman doing laundry and a man carrying wood off to wherever he needed to be. Some swept the streets despite the murky puddles and cracks in the street or how the dust refused to stay in one place. Dead leaves blew with it in the wind if they weren't crunched beneath her boots. There was a slight smell to the city, too, that made her lip curl a little. The city had definitely seen better days, and she lamented for what it could have been.

Despite its poor condition, it was a fairly large city—at least, for a fortress. It had nothing on the size of _Firenze_, but as she walked along the right side she found it took longer than she thought to navigate the somewhat intricate pathways through the houses. Those, too, were boarded up and some appeared obviously abandoned. There was one that looked like it had been a fanciful place, and one of the city people mentioned it being a brothel once that had brought in quite the revenue, but had long since faltered. That seemed to be the case for most any building here, although as she came to the entrance more homes in better shape started to appear. There were more people at the heart of it, too, and she had to admit she was surprised to see a small group laughing joyfully. They had smudges of dirt and tattered clothes, but it seemed to mean nothing to them, which was oddly uplifting.

Catherine had to smile a little at the sight of them. The city had lost its luster, but it people had not. It was obvious they were strong, and she couldn't help feeling a little envious. She wasn't sure she could be that strong—hell, she hadn't been strong enough for Giovanni and now here she was.

_'No use crying over it. You'll be here as long as it takes to figure the Clock out and then some,' _she sighed mentally, shaking her head, and continuing through the main road where the shops were set up. As Mario said, there was a Doctor, and he was kind enough to tell her how there had once been an art shop across from him and a tailor further down, but now it was only himself and a blacksmith—just the essentials for Mario's men to continue the fight and protect the city. When she asked who they were fighting, the man merely shrugged and explained it was most likely someone from _Toscana_, but he couldn't say for sure—he job was to tend to the wounded. She thanked him and he urged her come see him when she was sick, but with any luck she wouldn't.

So. The city really was more of a fortress as its leader had said. It was no wonder these people were so strong. She couldn't help feeling a bit more envious. She didn't know if she could be so strong—to be able to withstand the way of life here and still go on as they did. It seemed impossible.

Catherine paused before the fountain at the steps, gazing at the Assassin's symbol. It was the very same one she had been shown; the one she'd been sent to find and help, and now it was farther away than ever. She had been sent to help and it had pushed her away. Oh, she knew the reasons, but it hurt all the same, and she mourned even more for the loss of her home.

"Just stop thinking about it," she growled, shaking her head yet again, and trudging to the right, exploring the other side of the city. It was honestly no different than the other half; buildings were in disrepair with boards and cracked windows and vines covering the brick. If she looked up she could see plenty of shingles missing, and even the fountain in one open area had stagnant water that had obviously been there too long. It was there she sat though, leaning forward on her knees. She glanced up and noted she was in front of a church, although it, too, was boarded up. She smiled a bit wryly at that. Churches were supposed to be a place that one could go to in times of hardship, and yet even it could not last. She was by no means religious, so she supposed the fact the people persevered but not a church only fueled her personal views, and yet she was starting to wish the building was open. She sometimes saw churches as a place to think and come by some inspiration—something she needed badly right now. She supposed the fountain just outside would have to do.

Catherine reached into her pocket, rubbing her thumb along the top of the Clock's surface. She truly hoped there was something for her here—some information that could help her divine what the damned thing _really_ wanted with her and why it wouldn't work. Until then it would remain an enigma, and she hated it. Loathed it. If she didn't think it was her only way home she knew she would have happily chucked it by now, yet there it stayed in her pocket. She just wanted one damn sign, though—one little _hint_ of what she was supposed to do and how she was supposed to help, but even in a new place she was still lost. Completely and utterly lost.

The redhead let out a deep breath of air as she abandoned the Clock to its pouch and reached inside her shirt to bring out the Auditore's family crest. She smiled a little at it, rubbing along the gem and A. She thought back to when Ezio had given it to her, and her heart fluttered some. It had only been a day and she missed them terribly—Giovanni; Maria; Claudia; Federico; Petruccio; Leonardo, too; and Ezio. It was probably silly, but she knew she missed him the most. He had been the one person to really make her forget about things, and she thought perhaps he might somehow know exactly what to say right now to cheer her up. He had always been able to do that.

Her smile widened as she recalled Federico's words to her and brought forth the memories of her time in that wonderful city; of the laughs; the fun; the excitement; the everything. She had felt so much surer in those last few weeks. She had felt strong and like she could take on the world, but now? Now she didn't know anymore. She felt more confused than when she'd first arrived and weaker than when that man—that _scoundrel_—had attacked her. She hated it. She hated it more than the Clock. She hated not knowing what to do. She hated having to rely on everyone. She hated having to be told what to do. She hated being thrown about with no say. She hated having no choice. She hated being so damned helpless. She hated being _weak_.

She needed to not be. She needed to know what to do on her own and have a path of her own making. She needed to stop being led around so blindly and see things through her own eyes and make her own damn decisions.

She needed to be strong.

Catherine gripped the pendant tightly in her fingers and looked up at first to the church but then towards the _Villa_. If she needed to be strong, then she needed a way to get there, and she knew exactly how. She didn't care if got her yelled at or slapped or struck or worse. She knew what she needed to do, and one way or another she was going to do it because if the Clock wasn't going to help her, then she would just have to get home herself.

Stuffing the pendant back into her shirt, and with gaze hard and set, she power-walked her way back through the city towards the _Villa_. It was a little difficult navigating her way back, but she found the main fountain soon enough, and did not hesitate making her way up the stairs. She was pleased to see the group of men had died down, and she suspected it was because it well past two or three now—she had been roaming for hours and so most of the men could have been done training. She found Mario easily enough; he was in the ring shouting orders and corrections to the two men fighting. Being that he was busy, she looked instead for his Captain, and she was glad she spotted him. Ignoring the other men's stares, she walked right over and stood beside him, looking into the ring to watch the fight. They were practicing with their fists, and were already quite the bloody mess.

"I need to speak with Mario," she stated plainly, and when she glanced at Ottavio, he had a brow raised.

"He is busy—what is it you need?"

"Something only he can help with. I can wait if he's busy," she replied, and again the man gave her a look, but she was not put off. No, she was very much so determined, and this time she would not be denied.

"There are still five matches until he will be done. You may stay and watch if you want," Ottavio hummed in reply, and she merely nodded and folded her arms.

Catherine watched the men fight then, and how Mario trained them. He might have been blind in one eye, but he still saw everything. He caught every single one of their mistakes and did not hold back in his castigation of them. The men took it in stride and corrected as best as they could if not fully, and the two struggled hard as they assailed one another. They traded blow for blow until both were practically on one knee, bloodied, bruised, but still pushing to on. It reminded her of her wrestling training back home, and she knew, without doubt, this was exactly what she was searching for. The bloodied pulp part was not necessarily wanted, but she saw how strong they were; how resilient even as Mario relieved them of training—told them to see the doctor and then rest. They left with bows and then two more entered the ring. Again the process repeated itself, and after yet another hour or two the last group was finally dismissed.

Ottavio nudged her, "You can ask now."

"Thanks," she nodded, and slipped over the side of the rail. Mario had long since noticed her and looked to her, brow raised.

"To what do I owe the honor, Catherine?"

"I want to train—I want to learn how to fight."

The man's brow raised a bit further and his lip twitched upwards, "And why would you wish to do that?"

"Because—Well… Because I'm tired of being too weak do anything my own damn self. I was sent here to help, but I'm too weak. Giovanni _was_ right about that. I'm more of a burden than anything else, and I want to change that. I want to be able to prove him wrong and be able to do _something_ to help. I want to be strong, Mario. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet for once, and if you won't help me then I'll just go train on my own. Either way, I'm tired of not doing anything and waiting for someone else to help me get home."

The man regarded her for a long while, rubbing his chin, and as such she had a feeling he was going to say no. If so, then fine. She would just do it on her own like she said. She could easily take up jogging around the town, find something to hit, or get some boy to fight with her. She'd train like Federico taught her and become strong enough to make Giovanni see she was useful. She didn't need Mario's full help for that, although she knew it would make her stronger faster. If that was how it was going to be, then so be it.

"Giovanni mentioned you were very strong-willed, but he did not mention _how_ strong," Mario hummed, chuckling, and her hope grew some. The man laughed a moment later as he put his hands on his hips. "I suspect my brother would be very cross if he found out I trained you."

"Giovanni has my full respect, but he's not here and neither is anyone we need to worry about seeing me. And if I don't find a way back home soon, then I might encounter a Templar. If that's the case, then I need to be strong enough to take them on. For you to train me—be it as an Assassin or a Mercenary or whatever the hell you want to call it—is only reasonable."

"That is true, but would it not be better to keep you locked away in safety where no one might find your… gift?" the man mused, and Catherine scowled.

"I'm the only who can use it, and it's naïve to think you can just hide something like this away forever. Someone's bound to find it—and find me. And if this thing is a tool that I'm supposed to use to help, then I might as well as use it, but I need to be strong for that."

Again Mario rubbed his chin, but he was smiling, "Hmm… perhaps Giovanni was wrong to keep you hidden… and perhaps is fortuitous that you were brought here. Very well. I shall train you to fight, but know, if you fall behind or show even the slightest hint of surrender, I will train you no more. I have no time for weak whelps."

"I understand," Catherine nodded, refusing to back down, and the man chuckled.

"Then let us begin," he mused and motioned for Ottavio to come forward. The Captain held a surprised look for a brief moment, but hopped over and brought up his fists in front of the woman. She was the one to raise a brow, and Mario's grin grew wide. "You wish to train and become strong, then you must not waste time. Now, show me what you can do—strike Ottavio."

Catherine looked to the other man; he was about twice her size in girth and muscle, and at least a foot taller. She was obviously outmatched, but she wouldn't get better if she fought people weaker than her or just the same. It was the same for wrestling, so she got into her stance.

"What are you waiting for? Attack! Hit the man!" Mario laughed, and the redhead spared him a glance before she charged forward. She recalled her lessons with Federico and feigned a hit to his right. He moved to counter it, but she ducked and made to strike his left instead. However, the man was much quicker than he looked and her right cheek burst with pain, sending her stumbling backwards. She was stunned only for a moment, though. She touched her cheek, which throbbed with pain, and looked to her new trainer.

He only laughed, "What? You think you will get special treatment because you are a woman and a novice? No, you have pledged yourself to becoming strong, and so you are now you are the same as one of my men. As such, they will not hold back, and neither will you. You will only make yourself weak if you do so, now wipe the shock from your face and try again. But remember your mistake: you made your intent too obvious. Your eyes looked to the left and so he knew. Now. Again!"

"Right," Catherine mused, wiping at her cheek and getting ready again. She could tell Ottavio wasn't going to strike first, and while she preferred that strategy, she'd get nowhere if they both followed it. No, she was the one going to have to do the work. First, though, she did have one last question. "Will I still have time for my 'research'?"

"If you still have the strength after, then yes. I intend for you to continue, and I will expect it once you become used to your new schedule. We will discuss this later, however. Now, again!"

That was all Catherine needed to hear, and she charged forward once more. Oh, she knew she was going to be beaten and bruised badly after this, but this was what it took. She didn't care how long it took or how much pain she had to go through. She would prove herself worthy of helping Giovanni. She would stand on her own two feet. She would become strong, and she would find her way home.

* * *

_And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack  
All around the world was waking, I never could go back  
Cause all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open  
And finally it seemed that the spell was broken_

_And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open_

* * *

**13 **_– End_

* * *

**Act I**

_End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's the end of Act I folks! We're going to be going through a HUGE time skip (months), so get ready! A lot has gone on... well, not so much for Catherine, kind of. She will have some changes, but most are... well, you'll see! Anyways..._

_So. Mario is going to train her. Again, this is **not** necessarily Assassin training. Mario, while technically an Assassin and obviously trained in the Assassin arts, is the leader of the Mercenary part of it for Toscana. It's like how Bartolomeo was for Venice. So, really, Catherine is being trained to be a mercenary, but you can expect she'll be doing more anyways :p And as for Mario agreeing... well, I always believed he would admire a strong spirit, and there is some logic to training her and preparing her for danger. Better that she can fight for herself in the event there are not others around, no? There is also kind of another reason... but that one won't be apparent for a long while ha ha ID Anyways, don't expect the training to be easy, either! I can guarantee Catherine was bloodies and bruised after this, and it's not the last time she will be. Mario will **not **go easy on her, nor will her men._

_Anyways, you'll see more after the time skip... along with a **lot** more to come. But yeah, so this marks the end of Act I and next chapter begins Act II which is decidedly longer and we get into the game!_

_Whelp, I think I babbled on long enough. I hope you all enjoyed it, and don't worry-there will be a new chapter next week :)_


	15. Act II - Bravado

**TMWolf: **_Time for chapter fourteen and the start of Act II yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! We're gonna finally get into the game everybody, so hold on to your britches! Just a heads up, though... as most know, the game completely skips like 1.5 years in the game in the Practice Makes Perfect (training w/ Mario) mission like it's nothing. I definitely freaked out at first when I realized it was 1478 haha... So why did I bring this up? Well, let's just say I will be expanding a LOT on what goes on in the time skip... unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot of information, so a lot of stuff isn't necessarily canon but I am going to try to stay as close as possible to it and remain as realistic as possible. I also plan to expand upon Monteriggioni and life there since we never really get a good look. Expect me to put in a lot of original ideas that weren't in canon, but I think could be. _

_Just a heads up._

_For now... well, just so everyone knows there's almost a 6 month time skip, and this is honestly a filler chapter, but it goes over things that have happened and shows some changes in "Cat, although there's plenty to come. But yeah; this chapter is just getting you ready for the next so be ready! xD_

_Now for reviews:_

**_Britanika:_**_ Awww, thanks! :'D_

_**xoxo:** Well... okay, and bear with me, but I technically have a reason. However, I will admit I may eventually scrap the idea, buuut... it kinda works out for other things, so I'll just see how it goes. I think I have a smooth way to explain it. Now, as for Cat's stuttering... well, she is nineteen from the modern era... and how many nineteen year olds don't stutter at some point? Furthermore, Catherine is **completely** out of her element. She only really stutters when she's flustered, feeling awkward, or unsure of herself, which happens a **lot** in the previous chapters because she's all those things. Trust me, you'll see less stuttering from Catherine as time goes on, but she won't have lost her "uh/um/er" habits completely-there's always some awkward/flustered/unsure moments to come. Hope that clears up stuff on the stuttering and can ease your grimacing! xD_

_Now... today's chapter is from Lorde - Bravado. It's not quite the same thing... not at all, but I find the lyrics still kind of fit, so they were worthy of being the opening thing for Act II. Speaking of..._

_Without further ado, I present ACT II: ASSASSIN!_

* * *

**Act II**

_Assassin_

* * *

**14** – _Bravado_

* * *

_It's a switch flipped  
It's a pill tipped back, it's a moon eclipsed, whoa  
And I can tell you that when the lights come on I'll be ready for this_

_It's in your bloodstream_  
_A collision of atoms that happens before your eyes_  
_It's a marathon run or a mountain you scale without thinking of size_

_I was frightened of every little thing that I thought was out to get me down_  
_To trip me up and laugh at me_

_But I learnt not to want_  
_The quiet of the room with no one around to find me out_  
_I want the applause, the approval, the things that make me go_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_

* * *

**December 28, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine's heart raced like the beating drum, perfectly in tune with the staccato of her feet as she moved to avoid her opponent's strikes. She weaved in out, ducking down this way and that as she kept just out of reach. She knew she didn't have the strength to compete against the man hounding after her, but her smaller and more lithe form gave her an advantage in speed, and dodging used far less energy than attacking. Already the man was sweating and puffing, and though she was not free of signs of exhaustion either, she was definitely the more energetic of them both. However, dodging only did one so good; she knew she needed to attack, but the man was at least twice her size and her previous blows had not done much whereas his punch to her cheek and stomach had been jarring. She wasn't one to quit, though, and so she watched carefully for a moment to strike—just a small opening and she could land at least one more punch.

The man lunged forward so she ducked low, leaping past him. She stopped just short, though, and, gripping what grass was left in the ground, she swung, slamming her legs into his. The man had twisted to grab her, throwing him balance off, and so he toppled downward, but rolled up in a heartbeat. She didn't waste time, either; already on her feet, she swung her arm. Knuckle hit flesh, and blood splatter on her hand. The man yelped in agony although his nose was hardly broken. He wasn't fazed enough, though, and with a mighty, enraged bellow, he lowered and ram his head and shoulders into her stomach. She grunted, the air forced from her lungs violently when they hit the ground, and tried to roll out, but the man pinned her on her stomach. She hissed as her arm was harshly bent backwards in a way it shouldn't, and though she resisted, she knew she couldn't win. He was far too strong, but she was just as stubborn and refused to surrender even as the tightness in her arm increased exponentially with each passing second.

"Enough."

Catherine cursed as her arm was released and the man removed his weight from her back. He backed off, allowing her to get up, and she rubbed her shoulder gently. It was aching a little, and she lamented her old wrestling wound—brought on by stupidity during practice once. It had resurfaced more in her time here at _Monteriggioni_, and had made training difficult sometimes, but she worked hard to make up for it. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near as strong as the men she was training with, and even her sparring partner with only had maybe a month more experience always ended up beating her. She was pretty sure she could count her wins on one hand, but what really mattered was Mario's expression as the end the match. For that, she looked to the older man.

"You were sloppy, Filippo. You let your anger get the best of you. You have strength, but you must be more than a brute on the battlefield. However, your endurance has improved and you kept her on her toes for a long time. We will work on controlling your anger and using it properly later," he rumbled, and her sparring partner bowed his head in thanks. Mario then looked to Catherine, who had a bit of trouble meeting his gaze. She glanced briefly at the other men around the ring, although there were only a few since she was one of the last matches. "Catherine, your speed is good, as is your dodging, but your attacks are still weak. You lack the strength necessary, so you must learn to take down your enemy's most vulnerable points. In other words, you must make up for your strength with skill. You have improved, though, and that is good."

The redhead bowed her head, taking his words to heart. Certainly, she greatly lacked in strength compared to Mario's men. She was by no means weak, and six months of training had increased her muscle, but it was nothing compared to her comrades. She was also shorter than almost all of them, so all she really had was speed and smarts. The latter she was glad for; she was able to think throughout the fight for the most part, while the men would get erratic. Sometimes that worked in her favor, but not always. Still, it was an advantage she needed. Of course, she had a long, long way to go before she was where she wanted to be. She was getting closer, though.

"Both of you go clean yourselves up. You are done for the day," Mario continued, waving them off. They both bowed respectfully and then headed out of the ring. Her partner went one way and she the other. As it so happened, she came by Ottavio, who clapped her on the shoulder.

"Not bad, little one," he hummed using that nickname of hers. She both hated and loved it. Hate because it was a jab at how she was the youngest and the shortest, but love because it meant they had accepted her. A good deal of the men had a nickname of sorts, so it only made her feel more welcome, and she was honored to have gotten it only after about three months of training. She almost chuckled a reply, but the Captain squeezed her shoulder—a hidden sign to be careful. She looked at him with alarm as he frowned. "Emilio has returned from him work in _Toscana_. You would do well to avoid him. He has not forgotten you."

"_Seriously_?" she groaned, and Ottavio's continued stern expression told her it was. She sighed with exasperation, rubbing her slightly swollen cheek. "Great… I can't believe he's still pissed. What is he—a child?"

"Just watch out for him."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks," Catherine sighed, shaking her head. Great. Just great. The man-child with overly excessive amounts of strength was back and _still_ upset over their match. It had been a simple skirmish—just a test of her skills, but the man had been _incredibly_ cocky and underestimated her way too much. He was also fond of insulting her for being a woman. Mario has chided him the whole time, but the man didn't listen, and then she made the smart move of throwing dirt into his face and then struck him between the legs. She felt bad about it, although it had been insisted it was fair game to do so—one had to use every advantage in battle, and that was one of hers. Unfortunately, Emilio had not taken well to being beaten by a woman, and especially the raucous laughter of the men around him, who he had been boasting to about how he couldn't be beaten by them. It was then, for the first time, that Catherine had to endure a face of pure hate, and she had a feeling the man would have killed her right then and there if he could.

Thankfully, Mario had not let that happen and even sent him off to _Toscana_ for some mercenary work for a few months, which allowed her to become fully welcomed amongst the men in peace. Now he was back, and though Mario could keep him away or from doing something directly, she suspected the man might try _something_ in his own way. Ottavio made it sound like that, anyways.

_'Geez… and this time he won't be a cocky son of a bitch when he comes at me… gonna have to avoid him as much as possible,' _she grumbled, shaking her head as she made her way up to the stairs towards the _Villa_. She veered off to left once she reached the top, moving towards the city wall. Though her sparring and physical training was over, she still had another portion to go: agility. Mario, personally, preferred to focus on swordplay and fighting, but he, too, had been trained as an Assassin and so knew the advantage of being able to free run. He himself could do it, although he was not as quick as he used to be. However, that hardly took away from his lessons, and since her training had begun she'd run through the city every day. It was perhaps her favorite part—if only because it reminded her the most of the fun times she'd had when first coming to _Italia_, and because she excelled and surpassed the men in it. None of them were really good at climbing or running across roofs, and often called it cowardly, but she still took pride in being to outdo them in such a way.

"Alright… one lap should be good since I jogged around the walls this morning," she hummed, rolling her shoulders and bouncing on her toes. Taking in a deep breath, she paused only a few moments before she darted towards the edge of the upper level, kicked off with her foot, grabbed onto the flag-pole jutting from the wall, and used her momentum to swing to the wooden scaffold on the side. She'd done it many times now, and so didn't even pause as she ran along it to another flag pole that swung her over to an orange-tiled roof. The process repeated more than once as she made her way along the left side of the city, though there was an occasional beam along the way. They had once given her trouble, but now she landed on them with one foot and kicked off right away with ease. After about six months it just seemed natural now, and by Mario's nods of approval she figured she was doing a damn good job at it, too. She liked to think her "boys" would agree.

As usual she paused atop the brothel. It was as broken down and boarded up as it had been when she first came, and she knew it would be a long, long time before she could do much about it. Already she had tried what she could to make the city more lively—planted new flowers, vegetables, and fruit; worked the soil; taken off some boards; helped mend what she could—but it never seemed enough. Still, it wasn't as dismal as it used to be. It may have just been the sun shining brightly through the cool winter air, but she preferred to say that the city's charm had just settled in. It helped she had gotten to know the people, although some she still struggled to remember, and others were just visiting before they moved on. Either way, she'd come to like them a great deal, and she knew some felt the same. She tried to be as kind and as helpful as she could, and they appreciated it. So maybe that was why, despite its rough exterior, she couldn't help smiling some at the sight of the city before her. If the rundown brothel was good for anything besides a reminder of former pleasures, it was a perfect view to see all of the mighty fortress that was _Monteriggioni_.

She stood for perhaps a minute longer before she took off again, heading somewhat back the way she came and skirting around one of the taller buildings. She leapt across a wooden bridge between the roofs and then rushed across the top of a curved archway. The tiles were a little slick, but her boots got enough traction, and so she flew past it and leaping to the next roof. She charged towards a taller section, and with a quick step she jumped, grasped the edge with her gloved hand, and hauled herself up. She almost laughed as she remembered how she struggled with such a feat, and now it was almost child's play. She could see why Federico and Ezio had loved to do it—it was exhilarating and made travel much easier. It also further reminded her of their city, and of the fun times they had.

She missed it.

Only a month there and she missed it as much as she missed home. She missed being with them and having fun; being carless and free. Oh, she had freedoms here and she enjoyed laughing and making jokes with the men, but it wasn't the same. Unfortunately, she couldn't go back—not yet. Mario has said she was not strong enough, and both he and his brother—the latter through a letter—told her it would be best if she waited at least a year before she came to visit. She vaguely recalled the reasons, but she really only knew that she understood them. She hated it regardless, but she didn't blame them. They knew this world better than she did, and it just gave her more time to train and get stronger. She was at least able to write, and she'd even gotten a few letters back from Petruccio and even one from both Ezio and Federico. She had not gotten anything from Claudia, but the brothers mentioned she occasionally asked of her. Maria and Giovanni, of course, sent their own separate letters, and she always wished more than ever she could see them. She could be patient, though. Hopefully. She had been for the last near six months, anyways.

"Whoa—whoops," she laughed sheepishly as she almost lost her balance and slipped down to another roof. She corrected herself, though, and made towards the center of the city where the main market was. As always, it was just an armory and a doctor, although there had been merchants curious about trying to make some kind of living here. She suspected they had nowhere else to go, and Mario had shown _some_ interest, but he simply could not grant funds or help to get them settled at the moment. Perhaps someday, though, and then maybe more life could come to this place. The _Villa_ could do with more, anyways.

Grunting, Catherine leaped over the open space that served as the market walkway, landing in a roll on the roof at the front edge of the wall. She continued running, crossing a wooden beam, and then diverting back towards the _Villa_. She went all the way to the edge, where she watched as one of the men landed a winning blow and his opponent did not rise right away. She continued on, going across another arch and then racing over the roof to leap, catch a ledge, and climb her way up. She ventured around to the right edge, keeping track of her footing but also the time. It generally only took her thirty minutes to do her run, which covered most all the city, so that would give her plenty of time to get food and eat while she researched. Though she did like to eat with the other men sometimes, it had become easier and more efficient to gain sustenance and knowledge at the same time. Since the sun was still above the towers—just barely—she knew she had at least an hour before supper would be over, so she was doing good.

Panting some, she lunged her way up the beams to a higher roof and went all along the right edge, using beams and poles to make her way back towards the central market street. There, she leapt down to a lower roof, and then did not hesitate to jump to the ground, rolling to take off some of the strain, and got to her feet. She had come to like doing that quite a bit, and thankfully the city folk had gotten used to her "antics", and now most just either rolled their eyes or chuckled. Some of the ladies shook their heads, but she just grinned right on back. Sure, she might have been a woman, but she was one of Mario's men now, too—she could afford to do some rough and tumble things.

"At it again, I see," a familiar voice hummed, and the redhead glanced over to where the Doctor—affectionately called "Doctor" since no one seemed to know his name—leaned out of his shop. She couldn't see the wry the smile behind his long-beaked mask, but she knew it was there. He was a cheeky man, but he could have slightly bad bedside manner. She had been a victim of it once when she fallen from the roofs and cut her arm a decent amount. He was a good man, though, and knew his trade. He was also possibly the only one who could order Mario and his men around without facing the older man's wrath.

"Hey, I gotta practice and stay fit or I'll fall behind everyone else," she chuckled as she trotted over, brushing off her white undershirt and gray-blue vest. Thankfully there were ladies in the city that could make clothes—she needed a _lot_ more boy ones once training started.

"Indeed… and I see you have yet another wound. Come, let me see," he mused before taking her chin into his hands and turning her head to look at the blow she'd received during training. "Hmm… looks like only swelling and bruising."

"It was just a punch. It'll be gone by tomorrow. But thank-you, as always. What would we do without you, Doctor?" she snickered with a wink.

He scoffed, "Fall to pieces that is what. And your little rabble leader knows it, too, so do not get fresh with me, young lady."

"Yes, Doctor!" Catherine laughed, scuttling away as she waved good-bye and then jogged the rest of the way down the street. She waved and nodded to whoever was out, and briefly paused to tell the blacksmith that her new greaves worked wonderfully, and then was up the stairs. She stopped there for a moment to see what was happening, but it was just another match, and so she spared Mario a small wave of acknowledgement before she started jogging yet again, not stopping until she reached the _Villa_.

She breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from her brow on her sleeve. Already she could smell the food cooking and her stomach rumbled in want. Before that, she needed to wash up, else the lovely head maid, Ghita, wouldn't even let her into the room. She was a dictator, she was, but she did a lot and made life great in the _Villa_ so Catherine didn't complain. Besides, it did feel good to change out of her sweaty clothes and be in her looser, more casual green tunic and dark pants. That, and to get the sweat out of her hair so it wasn't so sticky. Once done with that, she ventured into the kitchen where, after a quick scrutinizing by the maid, she was given a plate of food and shoed off to the study, although it was considered quite a bad habit. Luckily for the redhead, she could get away with it since it was under Mario's orders that she work in his study.

Once in the room, she set her plate down, and pulled the Clock out from her pocket. She was never without it, and it was always quiet and still. Nothing had come from it the whole time she had been here, and none of her "research" had brought about any results or even a hint of what it was hiding. It was a disappointment, of course, especially when she'd essentially read through every one of the damn books in the room. No secrets were to be found—except for the hidden door, which Mario had explained with much bemusement. It was a sanctuary, with a large, circular room to honor the various Assassins throughout history. None she recognized, and none of the names made her Clock stir as some had before. At the very least, it was a quiet, solidary place she could go to if she wanted to be alone to think or admire the architecture and armor sealed away in its chamber. She had gone there a few times already, but generally she stayed in the study or found a chair in whatever room had more books for her to read. Certainly, there were still some she hadn't gotten to—what with the tomes being massive and all.

"You'd think just _one_ would have even a little something… but, no. You're an enigma, you little piece of shit," Catherine grunted, glaring daggers at the Clock, but it was completely unfazed. Again, it remained ever quiet and oblique to her. Once, it would have devastated her, but not it only served to anger her. It was a plague upon her, she swore. Here she was getting stronger every day and standing on her own two feet, and yet it continued to bar her path. She sometimes just wanted to throw it into the wall or over the side of the city, but she knew better. It was still her _only_ way to get home. She supposed she could consider that possibility just a fantasy now, but she refused to give up. Her mother was waiting for her back in that castle. She needed to get back home.

Until then, she had to read. Unfortunately, there was not much beyond books to look for any information. She did also have letters from Giovanni with suggestions and little tid-bits he had found, but they only served to act as clutter on Mario's desk. She sometimes considered trying to see what the Codex pages on the wall had to say, but even with the Clock translating the words, she could make no sense of it. On occasion, when she looked at pictures, she thought the faces seemed familiar, but it was probably only because she'd stared at them so long they were practically like long-time friends.

In short, she was running out of options, and she wasn't sure what that meant for her. She wasn't afraid, though. Not really, anyways. Maybe a little, but not enough to paralyze her as it had before. No, she was stronger now. She could hold her head high and she wasn't afraid to do things on her own—within reason, of course. She had Mario's support, too, and he had essentially hinted he would be happy to have her remain as part of his troops. She wasn't sure what that all meant for _him_, but she was grateful. This place had become the one thing she knew best besides the memories from _Firenze_, and she almost dared to call the city home. It technically was now, she supposed, since she had nowhere else to go and didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

"I really do owe that man more than I can give," she rumbled as she bit into her chicken.

Although he was a harsh, obdurate person in training which made you want to strangle him sometimes, he was also a wise and caring leader. His men were loyal for a reason, and she knew she was loyal to him, too. It was like Michelangelo has said on her journey here—you didn't really see it coming. You just woke up one day and you knew you'd give your life for the man. She didn't know if she was quite there yet, but she certainly thought fondly of him. It helped that he _was_ kinder to her than his men, but he was no less harsh in training. Outside of the ring, though? Well, he was very different. He seemed almost fatherly at times, and she relished in the talks they would have on occasion, whether it be about what she hadn't found or what Giovanni had said. Sometimes he would speak to her privately of her training or Assassin business—he never delved too deeply, but enough to make sure she understood and what it all meant for her and the Clock. Whatever the case, she enjoyed their time together. He made it feel a lot more at home, and she liked to think he did have a fondness for her that he lacked towards his men. Of course, he never showed it around them, and neither did she, although she might secretly boast to herself. Then again, she sometimes thought he was extra hard on her, but that only served to make her stronger, so she didn't mind. Sometimes.

She chuckled, "Oh, if the boys could see me now, huh?"

Reaching into her shirt, she pulled out the Auditore family crest. Like the Clock, she was rarely, if ever, without it. She considered it a kind of good luck charm. It always brought her happier thoughts even if it did make her a little sad. She often thought of how they were. She knew they were doing alright; they said so in their letters, but she still wish she were there to see it.

Petruccio apparently was telling more stories and creating wonderful things, which pleased his mother greatly. He had become a little sicker, but he remained bright and cheerful. Giovanni continued his work, although he spoke little of it—even to Mario. She knew he was a smart man and could stay out of trouble, but she still worried. Maria often asked if she was still acting decorously, and of course she told her "yes", although she suspected the woman knew it was a lie. Claudia she'd heard had found a suitor of sorts, and it was possible they would marry. She was happy for her; the young woman had finally found a man that enjoyed her haughty demeanor. And Ezio and Federico? Well, the latter had been fired—he pulled some prank with money—and so now he worked directly for his father running errands. He was well on his way to becoming an Assassin, though. Ezio, like-wise, worked for his father, but she had a feeling Giovanni had not told him about his secret work yet. It was never mentioned in the letters, so she could only assume. Otherwise, both of them were happy, and Ezio had hinted some exciting thing had happened to him some months ago, but never elaborated. Whatever it was, she was happy for him.

"I'll see you again someday," she chuckled softly, squeezing the pendant in her hands before returning it to her tunic. She could never thank Ezio enough for giving it to her. It had served as a source of comfort the first long, harsh month getting used to everything. It had helped keep her head up until she was finally able to do it on her own. It had been tough—the training was grueling and she had felt alone for the longest time, but then she started to talk to the people and the men. From there it got better, and now she needed the pendant only to help strengthen the memory of their time together.

Catherine let out a deep breath of air as she smacked her cheeks lightly, "Right. Well. Time to stop reminiscing and get to work. You found some new books in the attic tower upstairs, so get to it, you."

And study she did.

Thus far most all the books only held historical facts or stories and not really much on Pieces of Eden. Granted, that was probably a good thing. If books were just left out in the open for anyone to find, more people would know about the artifacts. According to Mario, the knowledge of them was incredibly esoteric—he dared to say only the Assassins and Templars knew about it, and based off his stories of them, she was glad. Their power was dangerous, and if any of the little notes in the books were something to go by, then a lot of "magic" or "acts of God" were actually done with Pieces of Eden. At this point, it didn't surprise her. She'd seen what her Clock could do, so if things from religious texts or Gods themselves were confused for people using the artifacts, it was reasonable. Of course, she'd always been skeptical of religion, so it made more sense to her. The only question remaining was _how_? How did they have so much power and have existed for so much of human history? It was something out of science fiction, and she was starting to wonder if the alien-origin wacko advocates were right.

It still didn't give her any ideas on the Clock. The closest she'd come was the Roman God Chronos, the god of time. He was also called Father Time, but instead of a clock he wielded a scythe. The spherical object on the table was certainly _not_ a scythe, so she didn't know where it fit, if it did at all. Furthermore, she couldn't recall any historical or religious incident involving time beyond the Roman God, so that was another dead end for her. Yet another waste of effort, unless her goal was to become frustrated. _That_ she was certainly succeeding in.

Even so, she continued to study. She had nothing better to do now, and her days always ended up this way: wake up, jog around the city or run a horse, break her fast, practice moves and skills, take a lunch break, work on sparring, free-run, eat and study, and then sleep. It was a routine that she'd become inured to and enjoyed sometimes. It kept her busy, and though there were no results, it did her good. Sometimes Mario would break the routine a little; sometimes he came in and spoke to her about what she learned or any news or how well she'd done. Sometimes Ghita came in, too, but mostly to tell her it was late and to go to bed or take her plate or mumble about how Mario should not be letting a lady to act as she did. It brought amusement, either way, but neither was to visit her tonight. No, Catherine was left alone, and when she heard the clock in the _Villa_ chime twelve times, she knew it was time to sleep.

"Whelp, another day with no success," Catherine grumbled as she tossed the book aside, rubbed at her eyes as she yawned, and took the Clock back. She shoved it into her pocket while she went about snuffing out the candles in the room, though kept one to make her way through the near pitch-black _Villa_ to her room on the second floor. She yawned yet again as she stepped inside, careful to avoid her running boots and outfit she'd carelessly tossed to make things go by quicker. She set the candle on her nightstand and stretched a bit before she flopped onto the bed. Even after nearly six months of use, it was still as soft as before, though she always remembered how it wasn't as good as the one in _Firenze_. Still, it was home, and she did like it.

"Urgh, well… better luck tomorrow then," she hummed, leaning over to blow out her candle and settle back into her pillow. She doubt she would, and certainly there was bound to be trouble with Emilio back. She would have to be careful with him, but she would make do. It wasn't like some of the other men hadn't been rough or trying to be a bit too "forward". They got the hint soon enough with Mario, Ottavio, and sometimes Michelangelo to back her up, but she held her own mostly. The thought of having to deal with Emilio still made her groan and rub at her face. "More like just try and survive tomorrow. Stupid Clock won't help me with that, though."

She rolled her eyes to let out a sigh before she finally closed them and settled under her covers. Nowadays, it never took her long to fall asleep, and soon she was lost to the world of dreams, and so never felt her Clock warm in her pocket.

She did, however, see it in her dreams.

* * *

**14 **_– End_

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**TMWolf**: _And there's ch 14 ending on a huge cliffhanger! Kinda. Sorta. And like I said... filler chapter. It's mostly to explain what's all happened over the just-about 6 months of time skip. Catherine is definitely way more fit and and stronger, even if she does get her ass kicked. And trust me, she'll be getting her ass kicked by these other guys, but they're not all bad. Some are pretty awesome like Ottavio, actually. Except that one guy Emilio and his buddies... but elaborating on that will be for future chapters. Ooooh yes, I have a whole thing for Mario and his men, so just wait! There will be a lot expanded on Monteriggioni in this chapter and definitely some character focuses and such._

_For now, though... sooo yeah. Catherine has been training for six months and she's gotten better at fighting an free-running. She has **not** been taught to do assassin skills, but rather mercenary ones... except the free-running, but she would have done that, anyways. Unfortunately no news on the Clock! It's still illusive the little shit. And now it's activated suddenly. HMMMMMMM. I wonder what it's up to.. well, you'll find out next chapter. _

_Anyways, the chapter is pretty self explanatory, but do send me a question if you have any! I will be happy to explain any ideas that don't involve spoilers! :)_

_One week to ch 15... bring your tissues, my friend._


	16. Twisted Logic

**TMWolf: **_Whelp, it's update time, and this is the chapter we finally really get into game events, so be ready. Okay, so I kinda lied; not entirely the tear-jerker chapter, but it can be. Kinda. Next one has tears and feels for sure. Anyways... as always, how characters are written is based off canon and my interpretation of it :)_

_For reviews:_

_**Britanika**: hahahahaha that is an awesome check list ID_

**_Guest_**_: No worries-I update weekly! So just check every weekend for an update :) And thanks soooo much!_

_Today's chapter title is from Coldplay - Twisted Logic. Yeah, you can probably guess what's gonna happen here ID Anyways, I won't keep you any longer, so here we go! Chapter 15!_

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**15 **– Twisted Logic

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**December 29****, ****1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine was pacing. She'd started the moment she'd stepped into Mario's office, and she hadn't stopped. It was impossible to—not after what had happened last night. No, there was no calming down. She couldn't talk about it, though. Not yet. She needed Mario first. She needed him here, and she needed him now. She let out a sound of frustration at how long it was taking for the servant to grab the man from the Barracks, even if it was still a while before their training began. She always woke early to go jog and get ready, but she wasn't jogging today. Something had happened last night, and her agitation only grew worse with each passing moment.

She paused only when she heard footsteps and stared expectantly at the hallway entrance. As soon as she saw the older man's face, she whipped the Clock from her pocket and charged towards him.

"Catherine, what is—"

"It activated! It worked!" she shouted as she shoved the artifact at him. He looked back at her, eyes wide, but didn't touch it. She threw her hands up. "I don't know how, but it activated—while I was dreaming!"

"While you dreamed?" he inquired, and though his skepticism was not unfounded, she still scowled and waved her arms.

"No, not _dreamed_—not really. It was different. I was… I could _see_ myself and I can never do that in a dream and it was like when I was brought here. I was kind of in this dark space, but then there were suddenly lights and images and sounds, too! It was—it was crazy, but I saw so much! God, Mario, it activated, and I saw—shit! It's still kind of blurry, but it was important, so I need to remember it right and—and—."

"_Catherine_!" Mario shouted, and she finally ended her fervid speech to stare at him. He sighed as he held up his hands for peace. "Catherine, calm down. You are making no sense. Find your words, and tell me what happened last night."

The redhead took in a deep breath of air, glancing down at her Clock, and began, "I was studying up late like I usually did and then I went to bed. Normally I know when I'm dreaming and it doesn't take me long to get there, but last night… I woke up, and I mean _really_ woke up. I know how it feels when I'm dreaming, and this wasn't it… but I wasn't completely awake, either. It was like watching a movie—er… a play. I saw things—images, lights, and sounds. I swore it… it was important… I saw… I saw… it… it was… Oh my God—it was Giovanni. I saw Giovanni! And the others—Claudia, Federico, Petruccio, Maria, and Annetta! I saw them!"

"Wait—you saw my brother? What did you see?" Mario inquired, coming over to grasp her arms tightly. She had never seen him to have great love for his brother, but here it showed. He was concerned, just as she was. "What happened?"

"I… I saw… there… there were guards! I saw guards—in red. They were different from the ones in orange that were there when I was. They attacked them. They hit Giovanni and beat him and Federico and Petruccio. They beat them badly and then—Jesus, Maria. They hurt her, too. I didn't see all of it, but they hit her and there was screaming, and then the guards took Giovanni and the boys away. They left the women alone. I don't know where, though—the dream cut off when they were taken. Jesus—Mario… Giovanni has been captured! And Petruccio and Federico! They're in danger! The guards may know who he is—we have to help them!"

She had expected Mario to jump into action. She expected him to summon his men and send a party to _Firenze_ at once. She expected him to rush to save his brother and family. Yet, he did nothing. Oh, there was a stern look upon his face with a rage lingering beneath. He was certainly thinking and trying to make the best decision, but she wished he would have agreed right away.

"You are certain? _Can_ you be certain?" he asked calmly, more so than she had thought he would.

She frowned, "Of course I am! Mario, he's your brother, and Petruccio and 'Rico are your nephews! You have to help!"

"And what shall I do? Send in my army? On a 'dream' you had?" he snapped back suddenly, and she flinched as if struck. He sighed with exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before he looked to her again. "We still know nothing of your Clock. This may all be… a… a fantasy it made. I do not doubt your sincerity—I think you believe you saw what you did, but whether it is _true…_ I cannot move, even for my brother and my blood, until I know for certain. I do not like this any more than you do. If my brother was discovered… I will send a scout—my fastest man and horse. If their report matches what you said, we will move out at once and find some way to save them."

"But what if it _is_ true and you move too late?"

Mario frowned, "If they have been thrown into jail, then there is time. They will not be punished right away. We have time. Let my men do their work and we will save them."

"But… I… I…," Catherine began, wanting to urge him to go _now_, but she knew he would not. He was right, anyways. She didn't want to believe it, but he was. How could she even know it was true? She didn't honestly know the Clock at all. What if it had been a lie? She didn't think it was, but she couldn't be sure. It was that doubt that made her sigh, nod her head, and look at Mario pitifully. "Okay. Please send the scout now, though. I know I don't have the right to, but…"

He grasped her shoulder warmly, "I care for them, too, little one. They are my family, and I will do all I can to ensure they are alright and free my brother. You, however… you must continue your training. Your studies will be postponed until this matter is resolved. Focus on getting stronger, is that understood?"

"I… ugh… yes," the red head groaned, shoulders slumping. "I just… I'm worried. The Clock hasn't activated until now, so I think that means something important… I just hope it's wrong—that _I'm_ wrong."

"As do I, but for now—go do your exercises. Run until you are ragged if you must to clear your head and focus. As soon as there is any news, I will let you know," Mario replied, squeezing her shoulder again. She nodded, though her concerned expression did not change. There was nothing more they could do, however, beyond going in force, but that would not happen. She would just have to trust in the older man, which she did. Really, she did. The images had just been so real, though—it was as if she had been there, and she feared what that meant for the Auditores. She hadn't seen Ezio, but what if he had been captured, too, and what of Claudia and Maria? Were they alright? Was Annetta alright? She didn't know, and that was terrifying.

"I'm… I'm going to go run—clear my head like you said," she sighed deeply, shaking her head, and went by him. She vaguely thought she saw him smile sympathetically, but then she was gone through the hallways out into the city. She didn't dare stop as she started to jog right out in the open courtyard, practically leaping down the stairs to make her way through the street. She reached the gate soon enough, and then increased her pace once she was out in the open area. She did try to do as Mario asked. She tried not to think about it. She tried to believe it would be okay. She tried to focus on her breathing and jogging posture and getting stronger. She tried as hard as she could even as the hours passed and she was subjected to swordplay, fighting, and all her other training.

In the end, though, the sight of the Auditores being beaten and taken was forever burned into the forefront of her mind, and worry was right there beside it.

**-O-**

**January 1, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Three days.

Three God-forsaken days, and there was nothing.

_ Nothing._

Catherine was going to lose her mind. Actually, no—she _had_ lost her mind. She was sure of it.

Every waking moment was spent thinking about what the Clock had shown her, and each day had only made her anxieties grow more and more tumultuous. Even worse, there had been no news. The scout had left three days ago, and yet there hadn't been _anything_. Mario just shook his head after training like he did every time, and it was frustrating and infuriating and she was going _crazy_. She needed to know what had happened. Had it all been a dream? Were the Auditores safe? Were Giovanni, Petruccio, and 'Rico _not_ in prison? Had Maria not been attacked? Were Claudia and Annetta safe? Was Ezio safe? There were too many questions, and her mind was somehow managing to juggle them all in some shoddy excuse for organization. She just wished she had some answers! She needed to know it had all been a trick, but with each passing day of no news or relief the worries and fears only grew.

Letting out a frustrated shout, Catherine shoved the books on Mario's desk to the floor. She didn't care that it was making a mess. She could just clean it up later, but right now it honestly made her feel better. She would have preferred training—at least then she could properly release her frustration even if it had made her incredibly careless and got her a new bruise and a few scrapes—but it had been over for hours now. Indeed, the sky was almost completely dark as the sun descended below the horizon. Lights decorated the city and it wouldn't be long before the night watch came into place. Unfortunately, that meant she had nothing to do. Mario had given her the OK to continue studying, but just thinking about the damned artifact made her want to throw it against the ground or over the city's walls. It was perhaps the most capricious thing to ever exist! One moment it was showing her something and now it was silent—_again_. It told her nothing, and she hated it! _Hated_ it!

"Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" she snarled, throwing her hands up to pace around the room. She'd probably worn a ditch into the floors of the _Villa_ from all the pacing she'd done the last few days, but that didn't matter. There was just nothing else she could do to vent her frustrations, and she was just about ready to explode.

"Catherine," a tired voice sighed, and she paused to look up sharply. Mario was there at the entrance to the study, his shoulders sagging more than they should. Her frustrations dampened some, if only because she knew this was hard for him, too. It was his family that could be in danger, and not knowing was probably hurting him even more than her. Unfortunately, he could not afford to pace and act volatile. He had men to lead, after all.

She sighed, too, running her hands through her hair, "Sorry… sorry—I… sorry. I'm just… Sorry. I know you're worried, too. I just… ugh… sorry. Sorry for saying sorry so much."

"You need only apologize for letting it get to you in the ring," he mused a bit wryly, but she winced. He chuckled this time. "You were reckless in there. You are lucky your opponent did not act too harshly on you."

"Ugh… I know… I was lucky it was Agnolo and not Emilio. Jackass was giving me the stink-eye all day. He would have jumped at the chance to beat the shit out of me," she grunted, folding her arms. She found a finger jabbed at her, though, and she winced again, cheeks flushing.

"Do not take him lightly. I am not blind to his antipathy for you. If such quarrels were not uncommon and were he not a good fighter I would have him gone, but he is not, so you would do well to not antagonize him or incite his wrath."

She sighed again, this time with exasperation, "I know, I know… and I promise I'll be better. Just... right now… I can't. I just can't. I'm too worried. And I know it's probably not my place to say that to you, but I can't help it. I need to know they're okay. How is it there hasn't been any news for _three_ days, Mario?! Pigeons shouldn't take this long! I've seen them come and go—why hasn't the scout reported back on anything yet?"

"Catherine," the older man groaned, his body sagging visibly. The weariness returned tenfold, and she swore she saw a reluctance in his eyes. It made her gut twist, but she prepared herself. Mario rubbed the back of his neck. "It is… difficult. My scout has said the city is in an uproar at the moment; there is much political unrest to add on to the gossip of the arrest. It is difficult to find the information they need, but they are trying. I swear I will let you know as soon as I do."

"But… Mario… it's been _three_ days. Surely they could have heard _something_."

"There… there have been rumors, but nothing I can confirm. The city is on high alert and making movements is difficult. My scout cannot work freely—they must be careful, which makes it difficult to act. Until they can obtain something concrete…"

"…you can't move. I know."

"I understand your frustration. I wish I could move, too, but if we do so there will only be more chaos, and even if we move, it will be harder than you may think—especially if we must break them from prison. Just give it more time. You will see. It… it will be alright."

His hesitation froze her to the core. Her fears skyrocketed, but she pushed them back, rationalizing that she was just hearing things. She had to be—her mind was so out of place right now that it was only reasonable. She was worrying too much; enough so that even a tiny pause seemed so much longer. She hated this feeling; being so helpless; being forced to wait. It was right. It wasn't fair.

"Yeah… yeah, it will," she replied, smiling pitifully. _'It has to be.'_

"Come, go walk the city, Catherine. You look like you could use the fresh air," Mario smiled at her a little warmly, gesturing for her to do so.

"I think I might rather run," she chuckled back as she rubbed the back of her neck, but ultimately she moved forward. He walked beside her, and the weight on their shoulders felt mutual. Unfortunately, the only way to lift it was to know the Auditores were alright.

"That may not be a bad idea. If it will cool your head, I would gladly recommend it," he hummed, and she gave him a slight grin. She became quiet then, as did Mario, and no more words passed between them as he led her through the darkening halls of the _Villa_ and out into the main courtyard. Torches lit the walls outside and the city, giving it a dull, orange glow. Above, the moon was only half full and there were a few clouds in the sky, darkening things a bit more. Not many were out now—most were going home and the men were in the Barracks if not on watch—and so she would have free reign to jog as much as she wanted. She definitely needed to, if only to exhaust her body so much that she would be too tired to think.

"Want to join me?" Catherine chuckled, looking over to the older man. He looked to her briefly before letting out a small laugh and shook his head.

"Thank-you for the offer, but no. I need to see to my men on duty before I may rest myself."

"Then get to it—don't want you falling apart. God knows, Ottavio couldn't handle it," she grinned wryly, and Mario shared in it—for a moment. His expression faltered, though, as he saw something beyond them. Catherine frowned, eyes narrowing and looked the way he did, towards the central tower of the wall. It took a moment, but she realized one of the torches was lit—the one in the middle. She vaguely recalled it meant there was danger, and by Mario's stern look she knew that was right. "Mario?"

"Something is out there," he growled lowly before spinning on his heel and heading towards the right edge of the upper part of the city. She frowned, following at once, and forgetting her need to jog. If the men had lit the fire it had to be serious. What could be out there, though? She knew there were a few bandits along the road, but they wouldn't be cause for concern unless someone came riding in from the outer farmlands or some travelers needed help. No, this had to be something else; something that might mean the city was in danger. Her worries for the family remained firmly in her mind, but for the moment she changed her focus to her home. If it was in trouble, then she was going to help protect it as best she could.

Mario and Catherine rushed up the staircase to the upper part of the wall, and continued the pace all the way along the side to the center above the gate. There, the man on watch was waiting, and pointed before their leader even asked. The older man looked out into the darkness, as did Catherine, but she couldn't make anything out.

"A fire—there. Between the hills. We sent a scout to check and he said it was Vieri—Francesco de Pazzi's boy. He has a small squadron of men. The scout counted ten in total, not including the boy. He didn't know why they are here, but he believes they are waiting for something. What are your orders, sir?"

Mario growled, "The boy is trespassing, and I do not doubt he is up to something. I cannot allow that on my watch. Rally the men—quickly!"

The man nodded and quickly dashed to a ladder further to the left, sliding to the ground. There he rushed towards the Barracks while the older man looked back out into the darkness, peering at the fire. He let out a low growl, body tense and ready for action.

"…Vieri? No… it couldn't be… could it?" Catherine murmured, touching at her neck where a blade had once cut into the flesh. Could it really be the little weasel bastard from _Firenze_? How was he out here, though? Why wasn't he in the city? Why _here_? It didn't make sense. "Mario, why is Vieri here? What could he want?"

"I do not know, but he will regret coming here. A child should know better than to play the games of men."

"Yeah, well, he's not the smartest. Mind letting me tag along? I'd love to remind him of our last encounter and give him another punch," the redhead smirked, recalling the memory fondly. Before she had thought it a somewhat uneasy moment, but now she took a lot of joy from it—enough so she wanted to show him not to mess with her again.

Mario turned towards her, brow raised, "You… know Vieri?"

"You could say that. His nose knows my fist especially. Besides, all the other men have had a proper fight with a real opponent by now, right? Let me use this for mine," she implored, motioning to him. The older man hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Hmm… I suppose it is time… and Vieri is not a difficult target. He is young and arrogant—not unlike his father…. And the other guards will be occupied. Very well. Let us be off and properly equip you. We have trespassers to deal with."

Catherine grinned right back, and for once her worries were overtaken by something else. It was finally time for her to really prove herself, and who better than that piece of shit pig of a man? It was almost like fate had brought him to her, and she was more than happy to oblige. Why he was here would come later—for now he needed to be punished. To do so, though, she needed a sword, and not the wooden or dull ones she'd used in the sparring ring. She would brandish proper metal tonight, and as it so happened they had one of just the right size. While the other men picked out heavier broad swords or axes from their weapons stores, she found herself a thinner blade that resembled a mix of the broad swords and a rapier. The handle was decently decorated, and the weight felt good. She made a few swipes before she was satisfied, and, after acquiring a proper, Assassin-decorated belt, she slipped it through the hook on her left side.

"Ready, little one?" one of the men teased with a smirk as they followed Mario through the streets.

She just rolled her eyes, "Just try not to fall on your face."

The men just laughed, though their spirits grew somber and serious as they jogged out into the open area. The scouts met them at the gate, but no words were spoken—Mario and the smaller mercenary just nodded and then they were following him instead. The scout brought them to the surrounding hills not far from where Vieri and his men were camped. It was too dark to completely make them out, but Catherine could at least tell the little shit apart from the others. His clothes were plusher and he was pacing about, shouting as if on some tirade while the others appeared to ignore him.

"Eleven, including Vieri. Good. Be ready to move out and surround them. We will use the element of—wait. There is another coming over the hill. Stay low," Mario hissed, holding a hand out to them. The other men obeyed at once, but Catherine dared a look over the crest of the hill. She narrowed her eyes as she saw the incomer shout about something being here. It must have been what Vieri was waiting for because he suddenly laughed and then his bevy was moving. Mario hummed thoughtfully. "At ease. Let us see where they go. We may find out why they were here sooner than we thought. Stay low and stay quiet."

No more words were needed, and the group of eleven mercenaries and their leader stalked through the grass of the hills, silently following after Vieri and his men. Their enemy moved quickly and with purpose, and Catherine didn't like it—not one bit. What had Vieri so excited? What was he so eager to go after? She could only recall him being like this for a woman or the Auditore boys. Unfortunately, she didn't think he would use guards for a woman, so that only left the other option. She had to shake her head to push back the worries again. This wasn't the time to focus on them. They had a fight on their hands and she couldn't let her frustration get the better of her. Oh, it lingered there, she knew, but this was a serious fight. Not training. She had to focus.

"Hold," Mario called, and it was at the same time that other voices could be heard. Catherine couldn't make them out clearly, and it was just as difficult to see the figures in the distance. Her eyes were adjusting to the lights, though, and she just barely made out a figure in white. Beyond them were two others—women by the garb.

Wait. A person in white. A man, she realized. A man in a white hood and gear. Two women. Vieri after them. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

"_Mario_," she hissed, grasping his arm tight. Her heartbeat raced and speaking was difficult, but she had to. "I think it's—."

"I know," he replied, his voice grim, and then he was making gestures for his men to move out. Five went further down towards the group, while the rest remained behind. "Catherine, when we attack, protect Maria and Claudia."

Catherine merely nodded, gripping the hilt of her sword. At the same time, the man in the white—Giovanni, she guessed, which made her heart constrict painfully—finally cut down the single guard that had attacked. Mario moved her group closer then, and she could now properly make out what was being said.

"I grow tired of this game!" Vieri barked, pausing to motion to the small group. His men raised their blades. "Finish him! And do not spare the women!"

The men charged forward, and Catherine nearly leaped from her spot, but Mario stopped her. With a quick gesture the men further down threw their knives, taking out two of the guards, and wounding another. All stopped, shocked, and even the little bastard made a squawk of surprise.

He looked around, trying to see where the blades had come from, "What sorcery is this?!"

"Not sorcery, boy. Skill!" Mario laughed, and the weasel brandished his blade.

"Show yourself!"

"As you wish!" the older man replied, and the attack began. Mario, Catherine, and his men leaped over the side of the hills and rushed over to where the Auditores were. It was then that the redhead noticed something odd. She had thought it was Giovanni in the white cloak, but now that she was closer, it didn't exactly look like him. She couldn't be sure, though; his back was to her as she came to Maria and Claudia's side. Mario, meanwhile, approached the hooded Auditore and threw him a sword, telling him to use it. Catherine wanted to reach out and see who was under the cloak—was it Giovanni and she was seeing things, or was it Federico or even Ezio? She had no time, though, as Vieri howled with rage.

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

Mario just smirked as he and his men charged forward to engage Vieri's. Ironically, the enemy's commander shook in his boots at the sight of the mercenaries, and promptly fled. His men were left on their own, and with that the warriors of _Monteriggioni_ knew they had ultimately won. As she had been commanded, Catherine remained with Claudia and Maria, going so far as to put her arm in front of them.

"Stay behind me—I'll protect you," she spoke quickly, glancing back just as such, and then looked back to the fight.

"Wha—who are… no—it cannot be! _Catherine_?! Is it you!?" the young woman gasped, but the redhead did not answer. There was a guard coming her way, so she stepped forward, ushering Claudia back before readying herself for Vieri's man. She could see he was cocky. No doubt he thought he had the advantage because she was a woman. She supposed he did. She had six months of training while he could have well over a year or years, but arrogance could make all of that worthless. She just hoped her own training was enough and she could focus as much as she needed.

The man snarled as he charged, slashing at her belly. She leaped back and then sliced upwards, slapping it into the other blade. He grunted as his arms flew up and she spun to return the belly strike. He dodged as well, but she hounded after him. She thrust, managing to scrape his side. He grunted with pain, but then struck out with his elbow. Her nose received the blow, which was jarring, and his next swing forced her back. She brought her arms up in time to block his sword, pushing with her palm against the side of her blade to give her more strength against his. The man was strong, though, and Claudia was half-screaming, half-sobbing, making it a little hard to concentrate. Catherine growled with the frustration as she quarreled against the man's power, but then noticed her opening. His blade was getting closer to breaking her defense, so she lashed out with her leg, kicking him right in the groin. The man let out a sound of agony as he dropped his blade and gasped in pain on the ground. The redhead pounced at once, pushing to her knees and using both hands on the hilt to shove the blade into the man's chest. He let out a garbled sound of pain, grabbing at the metal protruding from his chest, and then went slack.

A long time ago, the thought of having killed someone had shaken her and sent her to a faraway place. Tonight, while she felt some twinge of something sour in her gut, the shock was not there. She did not need to stop and think. The man was dead, and that was it. It had been necessary, and in the end she did not regret it. She had been trained to do this. She had _asked_ for this. There was no going back, and so she wrenched her blade free and looked for a new target a she backed up closer to Claudia and Maria. When she saw the rest occupied she looked to the two women.

The younger Auditore was a mess; her body was shaking terribly, and her dress was dirty, tattered, and much of the embroidery had been damaged. Her hair was untidy in multiple spots, and dirt was smudged on her face. Tears had stained her cheeks and her eyes looked puffy even in the dark light. Her mother wasn't much better. Her dress was equally torn and the bottom looked to have been purposefully ripped as did her right sleeve and part of her collar. There was mud near the bottom, and her hairnet had been ripped as well, allowing her hair to spill out some. There was a distinct discoloration of her cheek, and her face looked wan and thin, as if she had not eaten for a few days. The worst of it, though, was how she did not shake, did not speak, and how her eyes stared unmoving. It was as if she wasn't there; like there was no life. It frightened Catherine deeply, and her stomach dropped at the thought of what could have caused the once strong matriarch to be reduced to this shell of a woman.

"Just stay with me—it will be alright. We will protect you. Just keep your mother close," Catherine told Claudia gently as she reached over and touched her arm. It only seemed to help a little—the young Auditore burst into more tears—but she nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother. The redhead nodded back and looked to the battle, which was finally just about over. One enemy remained, and it was the hooded figure that made the final blow, shoving the blade into the guard's back when he wasn't paying attention. The guard fell, and the man in white then cleaned his blade upon the grass before pulling back his hood. Catherine took in a sharp breath.

It was Ezio.

Not Giovanni.

Not Federico.

Certainly not Petruccio.

Ezio.

Ezio, Claudia, and Maria. They were the only ones here. The others were not. Her vision had been true. By God, it had been true. The Clock hadn't lied. Three Auditores had been taken captive, and now the remaining three were here. Where were they, though? And why was Ezio in his father's robes?

"No," she murmured, shaking her head. It couldn't be true. Giovanni would have had a good reason for his second son to have his robes and it wouldn't involve him being gone. There was no way. No. The patriarch had to be alive. His youngest and eldest son had to be alive, too. They couldn't be gone. That couldn't be why these three were here. It just couldn't.

"You have my thanks," the young man spoke, and she knew without doubt it was Ezio then. She could never forget his voice. Her hand touched at her chest—right where the crest he had given her was. Her heart clenched, and she almost didn't dare draw near, but she knew Claudia and Maria would need him, and he would want them close.

She looked back to the young woman, "Come on—it's over. You're safe."

"Keep the sword, Ezio," Mario replied, motioning for the young man to put it away. The redhead watched them as she had Claudia walk ahead of her, a hand set gently against her back. The young daughter sniffled some still, but she was holding together.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Ezio inquired, the confusion laced in his words.

"Do you not recognize me?" the older man laughed, holding out his arms jovially. "It is a-me, Mario!"

"Uncle Mario?" the young man asked, though it was more of a question of confirmation, which was promptly answered when the mercenary leader embraced his nephew warmly, lifting him up.

"It has been too long, nephew! Far too long!" he laughed, clapping Ezio on the shoulders. It faded, though, as he squeezed the young man's shoulder and touched at his chest. "I heard what happened in _Firenze_… Terrible… Come. Let us get you all away from here."

Catherine paused then, eyes widening and then narrowing with accusation. Mario had _known_? He knew what happened? What _had_ happened? Why hadn't he told her! He promised he would! Why?!

"Claudia, Mother, co—," Ezio began, turning around to reach for his family, but stared in stunned silence when he saw the redhead. He looked as if to speak, but no words came out. She could see the maelstrom of emotions going through him, though, and wished she could speak to him properly right now—to learn all that had happened to make him look like this, but now wasn't the time.

"Hey, Ezio," was all she managed to say as she brought his sister and mother to him, and of course it did little to help. "Come on—let's get you all inside the walls. It's safe there."

She couldn't meet his eyes, she realized, when she went by him. Guilt had formed in her belly, and it was churning painfully with the worry and realization of what their being here meant, and that Mario had known. Her eyes stung, but she pushed the tears back. She couldn't cry here—not in front of the others. Not in front of the men. She was stronger than that. She had to be stronger than that. She couldn't cry and break down. Not here.

Ezio said nothing as he followed her, the other men having gone off to check the surroundings hills or taking up guard just in case. She was glad for the silence for once, and was even gladder when Mario waited for them at the gate. She couldn't meet his eyes, either, although kept close behind him as he motioned to follow him through the city.

"So," he began, and Catherine hated how phlegmatic he seemed. How could he be when he had already known? It was his family! "Tell me everything."

The pain and anger was thick in the pause before Ezio answered, "They executed Father for treason. Federico and Petruccio, too. Then they came for me."

"Do you know why?" the older man pressed, and at least there seemed to be some worry. Catherine was full of it and pain. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she had to bite her lip and tongue to keep from making any sound. So there it was. Giovanni was dead. Federico was dead. Petruccio was dead. She had seen them captured. She could have saved them—if only she had been sure. If only she had known about the Clock more than she could have convinced Mario, but it was too late now. They were gone.

Ezio sighed tiredly, "I have no answers, Uncle… Only a list of names taken from a man who wished me dead. I still cannot believe they are gone."

Behind her, Catherine heard Claudia let out a small sob, although for the most part she had calmed down. She spared a glance back and saw no tears, although discomfort was clear. Maria was still no better, and that worried the redhead more.

"Do not worry. We will make sense of this," Mario assured his nephew, but the young man shook his head.

"I wish I shared your optimism."

His Uncle spared his a small, comforting smile, "Come on, keep pace! We are almost there. I think you will find much to like in _Monteriggioni_."

"I thought _Monteriggioni_ was an enemy of _Firenze_…"

"For now. Next year it will be its friend. The year after its enemy again. And on and on. I cannot keep track. So I have stopped trying," Mario mused. He paused to motion to some stalls and the people, who looked on curiously. "These are honest, hardworking people. Our shops may carry simple goods, but they are well made and dependable. There is a chapel here, too. The priest seems a nice enough fellow, but I have never been much of a believer."

At another time, Catherine might have found the conversation funny. It was essentially the same he had given her, and she liked to think he told it to all new comers. Here, though, she hated it. Ezio shouldn't be here. Maria and Claudia shouldn't be here. He should be home with his family in _Firenze_ having a fun time in the parlor before they went to sleep. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

"Did you know the _Villa Auditore_ is almost two-hundred years old? It was built by my great-grandfather, a strange man, who carried all kinds of secrets. Keep your eyes open, and you might discover a few of them yourself," the older man continued as he brought them up the stairs past the barracks and training ring. "With all the fighting that has been going on, this place has started to get a bit rough around the edges. I wish I could do something about it, but I just do not have the time or money to fix things up. Guess that is life, eh? Anyways, here we are. Home, sweet home. So? What do you think?"

"It's most impressive, Uncle," Ezio replied, and Catherine glanced back at him. He seemed sincere, and appeared to have the same awe she had, but the burden he carried was all too obvious still.

"She has seen better days, I suppose. Believe me, I would have her shining again… if only I had the time," Mario sighed slightly as he brought them to the _Villa_ entrance. There he finally stopped. Catherine made a point to not look at him, but rather out at the city. She couldn't bring herself to look at the others, either. "Now that you have had the tour, nephew, you should go and outfit yourself. My men in the market are expecting you. Catherine, you should go with him—show him where the shops are. Return here when you are finished, and we will begin."

Both Catherine and Ezio looked to him, the latter frowning as he spoke, "Begin? Begin what?"

"I thought you had come here to train?"

"No, Uncle. I came here to escape _Firenze_—and I intend to take my family further still," Ezio explained, and even the young woman thought Mario was crazy. To want to train Ezio? He just lost his _family_! How could he expect him to train? And if people were after him, then was it even safe here?

Mario frowned, "But what about your father? He would want you to finish his work."

"What work? My father was a banker," the young man frowned back, and Catherine had to withhold her small gasp. Giovanni hadn't told him yet. He didn't know. He didn't even know what his cloak was really for. It made her heart ache more for him. His family must have been taken by Templars or—or _something_, and he didn't understand. He didn't know.

"Wait… he did not tell you?"

Ezio threw his hand up, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What were you thinking, Giovanni?!" Mario hissed, shaking his head. He looked to his nephew with a sigh. "Where to even begin… Ah… go with Catherine to fetch the gear in the market—equipment and medicine. It will give me time to think."

"But—."

"But that is that. We will talk more later," he replied more firmly now, and Catherine recognized it as the tone when you did _not_ disobey him. Thankfully, Ezio did not argue, and was compliant as he took the pouch of coin his uncle held out for him. "Here. Some spending money, should you need it. And if you find yourself in need of rest, I have prepared a room for you on the top floor of the _Villa_."

"Of… of course," the young man mused and then turned to his family. "Wait for me inside. I… We will not be long."

Claudia looked to her brother pleadingly, but he just touched her shoulder and gave her a warm, comforting smile. She looked to Catherine next, and the redhead did the same, saying the shop was just down the stairs. It was enough, or would have to be enough, and so the young Auditore took her mother's arm and led her in through the open doors, leaving the two alone. It was only after a deep sigh, though, that the redhead looked to the young man, who was staring at her. Again, she saw the maelstrom brewing inside him, and half expected him to ask his questions, but like she had been, he was tacit.

"It's, ah… it's…" she began, an "it's good to see you" lingering on her lips, but was it? Was it good to see him? She didn't deny she had wanted to for a long time now, but not like this. Never like this. She looked away, turning towards the stairs. "The shop is this way. Come on."

She thought she heard him almost speak, but then they were moving and no words passed. She didn't dare to give any. She wasn't sure what she would say or what she would hear, and she knew some of it she didn't want to hear at all. She was honestly still trying to process how his father and brothers were dead. It didn't seem real, and maybe this was all part of the Clock's vision. Unfortunately, deep down she knew it was true, and it made every step agony. Every silent moment was devastating. Every glance back was heart-breaking even if he had a stoic look on his face. She saw he was weary, though; his skin seemed paler; his eyes had dark marks beneath them; his shoulders were slumped. He was engulfed in torpor.

"Here—the blacksmith. We should get you some grieves or… or a dagger, since you have a sword now," Catherine spoke up as they neared the place. Ezio just nodded, and her heart broke more. Where was the cocky young man that had infuriated her? Where was the young man that she had fun with? Had he lost more than just his father and brothers? She couldn't bring herself to comfort him, though; not yet, so she turned to the merchant. "Good evening, Giuseppe. Can you show him your best daggers and grieves? Mario wishes to outfit him."

"Ah, a new recruit. One moment," the man mused before heading into the back of his little shop and grabbing a handful of grieves and then a roll of daggers. "Take your pick—see what fits and suits you."

Ezio only nodded and went about trying on the grieves, but there was a mechanical nature to it. He was simply doing it to do it, and her worry for him only grew. Had he been broken by what happened? Was the mirthful boy gone? She imagined she wouldn't be surprised if he was, but she hated to think it. She just wished there was more she could do than watch him choose the best fitting leather and a good dagger, pay the man, and then look to her expectantly. He just appeared so empty and lost, even though he had a plan. He was only seventeen. This wasn't something he should have to go through.

"Um… let's… get the medicine, too. The Doctor is right over there," Catherine murmured, eyes falling as she led him to the shop. There she had the Doctor give Ezio a pouch with five vials of medicine. The young man took it all as he had before; calm; reserved; sullen. Each passing moment made the redhead's stomach and chest constrict more to the point she could no longer bear it. She had to stop and finally really look at him as they approached the fountain. He stared back, but she didn't believe he was actually seeing her. No, his mind was far away, and she was reluctant to reach out to him. Yet, she did; she moved to touch his arm in some pitiful attempt at comfort.

"Ezio," she began softly, but he looked away, his calm façade breaking some.

"Catherine… not… not now…_please_."

Her hand fell away and she could only smile sadly as she nodded, "Okay. Mario… Mario is waiting, so… so let's get you back to the _Villa_."

It thankfully wasn't a long walk, and she brought him through the archway where Claudia and Maria were waiting in the main hallway. She shut the door behind her before turning to follow him, but paused when he spoke to them. She stayed back, letting them talk.

"Do not worry, we're only staying here for a little while," Ezio told them.

"I do not like it here," Claudia replied, finally calmed down some. "I want to go home."

Her brother could only nod as he replied tiredly, "I know."

"It's… it's not home," Catherine spoke up then, venturing forward carefully, "but the rooms are decent. We have plenty for to choose from… I'll show you. Ezio, Mario should be in his study—you should go talk to him. It's just through there and to the left."

The young man was reluctant, but when she nodded reassuringly, he nodded back. He gave his mother and sister one final embrace before venturing off the way she'd shown. Catherine, meanwhile, turned her smile to the two women. Claudia looked as though she wished to say something, but she held her tongue for once.

"Come on. You two look like you need some rest," the redhead chuckled, hoping it didn't seem too forced, and led them up the stairs. Claudia kept close to her mother, and the redhead figured she would want to be in a room close by, too. Thankfully there were two that were somewhat conjoined, or at least had a door with just a small walkway between them. She had Maria take up a red-themed room, and it was at the side of the bed the woman knelt down and began to pray. She finally spoke, but it was only soft whispers, and Catherine dreaded to think nothing might break the woman from her stupor. She dreaded asking what had happened even more, and so led Claudia to a lighter red-themed room.

"I know it's not like the _Palazzo_… but it's still fairly lavish… and we can get you dresses to fill the wardrobe and chests. There are ladies who know how to sew very well here, and the food is good, too," she told the young woman, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly.

Claudia sighed as she sat on the bed, "Thank-you, Catherine."

"Um… of course," the redhead nodded, and made to leave, but paused. She glanced between the floor and the young woman's face, but finally sighed after a few moments. "Claudia… are… will… will you be…"

"I do not know," the young Auditore laughed pitifully, eyes watering again. "I want to go home. I want to go back to _Firenze_. This—this is a nightmare. I just want to wake up. This is not right! It is all wrong! Father and Federico and—and Petruccio… they are…"

She almost broke down in tears, her sniffling loud as she wiped the water from her eyes. She somehow managed to mollify her sorrow, though, or at least push it back behind her strong demeanor. She even forced a laugh.

"Forgive me. It has been difficult these last few days. Do not mind me… but… but Catherine… what are _you_ doing here? Why are you not in England?"

_'Isn't that one of the big questions of the night?'_ the redhead mused silently. "It's… a long story… perhaps one better saved for tomorrow… I promise I will tell you, though. Just… for now… get some rest, Claudia. You're tired and exhausted… and… and you've been through… a lot. Please—rest."

"I… I suppose you are right. I admit… I feel ready to collapse. I… it… it is good to see you again… and, ah… I… I will see you in the morning," the young woman replied, though her eyes were focused on her hands in her lap. Catherine somehow smiled back at her and even embraced her quickly with one arm.

"Good night, Claudia," she murmured softly, a lingering apology on her lips, but what good would the words do? Words never meant enough in these moments. So she held the young woman a few seconds more, bade her again to get some rest, and then moved back out into the hallway. She shut the door quietly behind her, walked a bit further down, and then sighed deeply. At least the two women were taken care of, which left Ezio. She walked through the halls towards the balcony above Mario's study, but she found the lower floor empty. They must have finished talking then.

_'Mario said he had a room… at the top?'_ she mused, looking back the way she'd come. She hadn't heard Ezio going through the halls, but the top room was reached back that way where it went through another door to a set of stairs and a ladder that went up into the tower. It was to there she ventured, but then paused when she reached the ladder. Her hand gripped the wood, but her legs were frozen with indecision. Should she go see to him? He hadn't wanted to speak before, so why would he now? What had Mario said to him? Had their talk made it worse? Was it better to leave him be?

She recalled his face—how tired he'd been—and knew she needed to speak to him or at least see him; tell him it would be okay. Would it, though? Would it be alright? She honestly didn't know, and maybe in the end she wouldn't be able to tell him the same, but she had to try. She needed to see him, too. She needed to know it was true. She needed to know this was reality.

Catherine took in a deep breath and then slowly climbed up to the upper part of the tower. It was a fairly large room with windows on almost all sides, although some were boarded up. Mario had kept more books and paintings up there, and there was a desk and an unmade bed. She could only assume he'd had a servant make it, having figured Ezio was coming. The notion stung. How long _had_ the older man known and not told her? Why had he hidden the truth?

The questions left her, however, as she came upon the opened space, and found Ezio sitting on the furnished bed. He had his elbows on his knees, and his face was pressed firmly into his hands. His shoulders were slumped even more than before, especially with the Assassin gear set across the foot of his bed. He had taken his hair down, and it looked matted and messy. His white undershirt had stains of blood and smudges of dirt just as his pants did. His boots were more scuffed than usual and caked with mud here and there. His hands appeared scuffed, too, and she saw scabs as well. Her heart throbbed with pain at the sight, and she almost went back. She almost denied her need to spare him anymore pain, but then he removed his hands and saw her. She, in turn, saw how really tired he was. He looked beaten and broken, and she couldn't believe he was holding together. He couldn't even muster the strength to give her a fake smile.

"Catherine… I… I did not hear you come up," he murmured and even his voice sounded hoary.

"Sorry… I was… I… I just… I wanted to see how you are… is…is it alright if…?" she inquired softly, rubbing her arm.

He paused, as if struggling to think, but then waved for her to come forward, "Of course. I don't mind. I am just… tired."

Of course he was. She would have been, too, if she'd gone through what he did. Unfortunately, she could only think to twitch her lip upward before she came over. She stood in front of him, wanting to touch his shoulder or arm or even hug him, but it didn't seem right. Hell, she couldn't even form words for what felt forever.

"Ezio… I… um… I… I'm… I'm sorry… about…"

"I know," he murmured, and she swore his voice shook.

She swallowed hard, "What… what… happened?"

A deep, tired sigh escape him as he ran his hands through his hair, eyes shut tight. She could see him properly shake then, and he looked beyond her as he brought his hand to his mouth and inhaled sharply through his nose. Again he shut his eyes, as if gathering himself together. She opened her mouth to tell him he didn't need to say if he didn't want to, but he spoke up before she could.

"I… I was…. Out. When they were taken. I did not know why they were. I only came back to find Annetta with my sister and… and my mother. They were shaken. They… the bastards… they struck Mother. She… I fear they did worse, but she will not speak, and Claudia did not see. I went to find Father and my brothers… and I spoke to him in the prison. He told me to go to the _Palazzo_—to find his hidden room. He said to use my gift and I did. I found it and the garbs," he spoke, gesturing to his father's Assassin gear. "I obtained the documents to clear his name and I was to take them to the _Gonfaloniere_—Uberto Alberti. I was attacked along the way. The men wished to kill me as did the others. I reached Uberto, though, and I gave him the documents. He… he promised to save them. He swore everything would be alright, but—but—."

Ezio's hands clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, and the sorrow in his eyes transformed into a fiery rage. Catherine vaguely recalled a man named Uberto when she spoke with Giovanni, but she did not know him; not really. She wanted to reach out to take the young man's hands, but again he stopped her as he continued, finally steeling his emotions some.

"He betrayed us. That bastard killed my father and brothers. He lied. He swore I gave him no documents and he killed them. He tried to kill me, too, but I escaped. I was powerless. I could do nothing and now they are dead! My Father and Federico and Petruccio are _dead_!" he snarled, throwing his hands to his head, gripping the locks tightly. His voice shook further as he fought back his anguish—his own tears. This time, she did take his hand, pulling it from his face. He looked up at her, rage, sorrow, and helplessness a relentless torrent inside of him.

"Ezio, it's not your fault—how could it be?" she spoke softly.

"How can you know that!? You were not there!" he shouted, wrenching his arm away. It hurt more than it should have, and regret soon appeared in his eyes, too. "It is my fault, Catherine. I failed them. I was not strong enough. I was helpless. I was nearly killed. I would have been had Annetta's sister not helped me. She cared for my mother and my sister and taught me to survive… she helped me kill the bastard. I caught him at a gathering, and I avenged my family. Yet… yet what good was it!? What good has killing him done? My family is still dead! His death did not bring them back! And now I must flee my home to protect all I have left, and yet it may not be safe no matter where we go! All this because I could not save them!"

He essentially collapsed then, almost on the verge of tears as he pushed his fingers into his hair again and slouched over. His body shook visibly now, and her heart broke further. This time, she did not hesitate, and pulled his arms down to pull him to her. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing into his hair, while the other grasped at his shirt, keeping him close. He froze for a moment before his shaking continued.

"Ezio… God, Ezio… I'm sorry... I'm so sorry… It's not your fault. It will never be your fault. You couldn't help it. You weren't ready. There was nothing more you could do. You did all you could. It's not your fault. It's not your fault," she choked out, fighting back her own tears. In part, because she had never seen him so pitiful, but also because she knew _she_ could have stopped this. She had been given a vision, and she had ignored it, and now three people were dead, and three were left in the wake of the chaos and they might not be fixed. It was _her_ fault, and yet she could not tell him. She was too selfish; too afraid for him to hate her. So she hated herself as she lied. "It was that bastard Uberto's fault. He did this. He killed them, not you. And you killed him. You got justice, and now he can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt anyone else. You did a good thing, and… and just… don't blame yourself, Ezio. It's not your fault… I… I'm… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He let out a choked sound then. A muffled, pained cry escaped his throat, and his fingers latched onto her vest as he pressed his face into her belly. She clutched him tighter, keeping her tears back while his flowed freely. Catherine just held him there, letting Ezio sob. She didn't dare release him; didn't dare move. She didn't want to, and so kept him there; let him release all he needed until he was too exhausted to even hold on. It was all she could think to do.

* * *

**15 **\- _End_

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**_TMWolf:_**_ And that is chapter 15. Sad-face chapter._

_And yeah. I totally did **not** save Federico, Giovanni, or Petruccio. They are dead. There are reasons, but they'll take a long time to be answered, unfortunately, but such is the nature of her finicky Clock, which you'll also find out about later lol... but yeah. So. The brothers and dad are gone, and Ezio and his family are now at Monteriggioni. As you can imagine, there's a lot of questions, but mostly a lot of sorrow right now._

_Now, I know the game never showed Ezio crying, but he was **seventeen**. Technically he's been a man by Renaissance time for a while now, but even at that age... he lost his family. I don't doubt Ezio broke down the first night he got to the city or at least at some point not long after, thus what we see here. Don't expect too many more tears from him, but next chapter will cover a lot of... talking and working through stuff. You'll see. Sixteen is pretty dang long, though, ha ha._

_Anyways, so I don't think there's much more to say here... I guess 'Cat is getting better at the killing business, although she was kind of getting her ass kicked until she kicked the man in the balls, though lol Shame Vieri got away. Right, so. Prepare for fun talk-feels-chapter and such next week!_


	17. Fix You

**TMWolf: **_Whelp, time for another tear-jerker chapter. Kinda. I mean, maybe. I think it's kind of pretty sad-at first, but then heart warming at the end. So, y'know, I won't tug on the heart strings forever ID This is a pretty long chapter, so have fun guys! Lots of character growing and talks and figuring things out._

_As always, how I write the characters is based off my interpretations of them from the canon and such. _

_Today's chapter owes it's title to Coldplay - Fix You, for reasons you'll see soon enough~_

_So not much to say here, so have fun reading! :)_

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**16 **– _Fix You_

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**January 1, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Ezio's sobs had died down after a while, and then he was quiet. It hadn't taken long for her to realize he had fallen asleep—too exhausted mentally and physically to stay awake. Her own stability wavered, but she kept herself together as she got him underneath the covers and settled him into bed. She stayed only a few moments longer to gaze at him, taking in how serene he looked compared to just moments before. Yet even then, he stirred uneasily. The serenity was disturbed by slight twitches and furrows of his brow.

It made her chest tighten, and she could look at him no longer. Catherine spun on her heel and moved as quietly and quickly as she could out of his room, down the ladder, through to the main hall, down the stairs, and then out into the desiccated garden in the back. Despite its barren state, the area was large as it extended back to the wall. She was glad for it. She needed the space between the _Villa_. She couldn't be there right now, or be near the people there. She couldn't face them, and yet they pervaded her thoughts so deeply it made it seem as though they loomed over her regardless if she was by their side or at the wall. She ended up somewhere near the latter and sat on one of the few benches there. She pressed her hand to her mouth, inhaling deeply as she blinked her eyes quickly. Her body shook, though, and despite her efforts, she let out a sob.

The tears came soon enough and she pressed two clenched fists against her forehead as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. The tears rolled down her cheek endlessly as everything burst forth. There was no holding back, and the guilt washed over her. Giovanni, Federico, and Petruccio were dead. They were gone and never coming back. She would never get to see them again. She would never get to hear them again. She would never get to speak to them again. She would never spend time with them again. She would never get to tell Petruccio a story or draw him pictures or play swords with him or be his Lady and he her Knight again. She would never spar with Federico or go run with him or make jokes at his brother's expense or tease him for being so lazy again. She would never talk of the future or of Assassin things or whatever came to mind with Giovanni or make him proud of her again. She would never laugh with them, play with them, do _anything_ with them again. They were gone. _Dead_.

And it was her fault.

Oh, she hadn't pulled the trigger. She hadn't tied the noose. She hadn't given the word. She hadn't sent the guards. She hadn't captured them or beat them. She hadn't killed them. Yet it was her fault. It was all her fault. She could have saved them. She _should_ have saved them. She should have been able to. She should have been stronger. Hadn't the man sent her here to help them!? Didn't she send her to help them? So why? Why were they dead? Why couldn't she save them? Why was she so weak and useless!?

"Dammit!" she shouted, standing up and pacing through the pathway, going back and forth to the bench. She didn't understand. She couldn't _understand_. Why were they gone? Why were they dead? Why couldn't she save them? Why couldn't she save Claudia and Maria from this? Why couldn't she keep Ezio from looking like he did? Why couldn't she stop seeing him break apart and become something so entirely different from before—like he was almost a new person. It wasn't right. It wasn't _right_! Yet—it was real. It was all real.

Choking on a sob, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Clock. She glared at it through her tears, loathing it more than ever. She cursed it, damned it; hoped it would rot in hell if it could go to such a place. She wanted to demand why it had failed her—why it had not told her sooner; why it hadn't help her convince Mario; why hadn't it given her some way to save them? If it could go back in time, why couldn't it take her now? Why wouldn't it work?

She snarled through her sorrow as she dug her fingers into the metal and turned towards the wall, bringing her arm back and over her head. She was poised, ready to throw it, hoping to never see the damned thing again, but her arm was too heavy. The Clock grew warm, and any thought of throwing it away was overridden by the heat and the images that flooded her mind. She saw their faces; she saw them standing at the gallows. She saw the noose around their neck; saw two men—Uberto was one, but the other was still lost to her. She saw the crowd demanding their death. Words were said, but she couldn't make them out. She saw Giovanni howl with rage; saw Federico look to his terrified little brother and share some words that seemed to calm him. Then they were gone; they dropped beyond her sight and in the crowd she saw the face of horror and devastation. It was Ezio, and it was like looking in a mirror as the images faded and Catherine fell to her knees. Her sobbing continued as the Clock remained trapped in her fingers against the ground, her other hand curled into a fist as the tears fell into the dirt path.

She didn't hear the footsteps approaching, and so looked up sharply when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She wiped at her eyes and realized it was Mario. He was morose and she knew he felt pity for her, but she could only find anger to give to him in return. She wrenched her shoulder free as she stood up and glared at him accusingly.

"You _knew_! You knew!" she snarled and he only stared back. "You knew! You knew they were dead! You knew! You told me you'd tell me when you heard _anything,_ but you lied! You lied to me! You told me you'd tell me, but you didn't, and you _knew_! How could you! How could you not tell me?! And—and dammit, Mario! We could have saved them! You could have sent your men and we could have saved them! But now they're dead! They—they're—just—God dammit, Mario, why did you tell me?!"

Her sobs continued, and she had to wipe quickly at her eyes so that the man wasn't a blur, although it wouldn't have mattered much; his face did not change in all the moments of silence after her tirade. Then—a drop in his shoulders. He let out a tired breath of air as he looked to her, a deep sadness pouring out from him, though there were no tears to compliment it. He sat down on the bench nearby, set his elbows onto his knees, and rest his chin into his entwined hands.

"I… had not thought of a way to tell you, Catherine," was his reply, and though the young woman's anger only flared, she bit her mouth instead. She studied him harshly, but as she did so she noticed how worn he looked; how weary. It made her think of the young man in the _Villa_ and his sister and mother. She thought of her own state, and regret filled her again. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to hate him for not telling her. She want to be angry with him. She wanted to do so much, but in the end she could only sit down beside him, staring at the Clock in her lap.

"Mario… I'm… I'm sorry—I… I didn't mean to yell. I just… I had no right. They're—they're your family. Not mine. I'm sorry. You're hurting, too," she spoke softly, wiping at her eyes as they started to water.

The older man shook his head, "No… no you have the right. They were more family to you than I was to them. My brother and I had not gotten along in years, and you heard my nephew—he did not even recognize me. I was hardly a proper Uncle. You spent more time with them than I ever have, certainly. I should not have hidden it from you, but…"

"They're still family," she replied, giving him a small smile before fresh tears came. Again she wiped them away, although it seemed useless at this point. "I'm sorry—I… I just… they're gone. They're really gone, aren't they?"

"…Yes," he replied after a long while, and she took in a very shaky breath. "My scouts arrived hours after their hanging and sent me the pigeon at once. They informed me of how Ezio, Claudia, and Maria had survived and were safe. They suspected they might come to Monteriggioni, but were not sure until they saw them depart. I… I had been preparing for their arrival, as I mentioned. I… I suppose I thought I would wait until they came to confirm it myself before I told you, but I see now I should have said so sooner. I am sorry, Catherine."

"I could have saved them, Mario. If I had just known more…"

"It would have not changed anything, Catherine, and do not think otherwise," he spoke a bit roughly, looking to her. "There are other mercenaries in the city, and they saw the guard at the prison and the gallows. We could not have saved them in time—even if I had brought my entire armada. There was nothing we could do."

She wanted to believe it. God, she wanted to, but her heart was too heavy to do so. How could she when she'd been told to come and help him and then fail? Who was to say the Clock wouldn't have worked had she gone back? What if it would have worked and she could have saved them? What if it could have prevented their fate?

"Catherine," Mario spoke, touching her shoulder. She looked and saw his sorrow was as deep as hers, and she couldn't fathom how he was holding it back. She knew he wasn't so callous, and so she could only marvel at how someone could be so strong. "There was _nothing_ you nor I could do."

She tried to smile, but it was hard. She meant to reply, but she only sighed, lip trembling as she held back her tears. It was hard, though, and more came despite her efforts. The older man just held her shoulder, silent and stalwart in his own mourning. She imagined she was doing enough for the both of them anyway, and it took longer than she liked to finally calm down again and wipe her face on her sleeve.

"Sorry—I shouldn't be crying so much. Been training me to be strong for like six months now and here I am bawling like a baby," she tried to chuckle, but it was weak and she knew it.

"There is no weakness in weeping for the loss of those we love. Sometimes that itself is a show of strength—of our compassion for another. You cared for them deeply, little one. My brother… he spoke fondly of you. He was wary at first, but he spoke of your potential and how you had a good heart, and he spoke true. You are strong, little one; tears do not make a lesser woman of you."

"You know," she began after a while, managing to laugh a little, "if you made speeches like that during training the guys might want to punch you less."

Mario chuckled softly, "Ah, I suppose they might, but then they would not remember and learn."

Catherine grinned slightly before she let out a sigh and sniffed a few more times. There was an occasional tear, but she was done crying—for now. She would probably let loose another waterfall later, but at the moment she was placated. It gave her the time she needed to think on words that had been said, and looked beyond Mario to the _Villa_. Her mind ventured to the rooms—particularly to the one in the tower. Her fingers gripped her Clock tight as she turned her gaze to Mario.

"Will… will you train Ezio?"

"Yes. I managed to convince him to stay long enough to learn to properly defend himself and his mother and sister."

"He still wants to leave—go further… Giovanni never told him… do you plan to?"

The man's lips creased into a frown, "Yes. It is his heritage—he has a right to know. And if I am guessing right… the men after him are Templars and they know he is an Assassin, or at least the son of one. They may never stop their pursuit of him—not after he has killed one of their own. Any Assassin, even if only by blood and on the run, is a danger to them."

"I take it he wasn't happy about your proposition," she hummed, thinking deeply herself now.

"No. He is reluctant, but he saw the reason. He is unskilled—you saw him," he replied, and she nodded. Though he had done well enough, he was sloppy and ingenuous. If Mario's men had not been there, it would have been far worse. "He says he will stay until he has the skills he needs to defend his family..."

She glanced over when she sensed the pause, "You want him to take up his father's mantle?"

"Yes. Giovanni would have wanted it—just as our father and his father before him did."

"Giovanni never told him, though. This will… this will be too much for him. He won't accept it like this. I… frankly… Mario… should you? Should you want him to? He just lost half of his family and suddenly he's dealing with talk of Assassins and how his father had another life he never knew about."

"I know," the older man sighed deeply, and the roughness of it made her shrink down some. He sighed again, tiredly this time and spoke more softly. "I know… but… ah! You do not understand yet, little one. Giovanni was our _only_ proper Assassin… and now he is gone, but his blood remains and it is _strong_. We _need_ another Assassin. If Giovanni was taken… He was careful, Catherine—_always_ careful. He would not be taken so easily. The Templars have become dangerous; more-so than my brother believed. We need an Assassin like Giovanni again to help in this war."

"But… Ezio… he…"

"He will take to it—I am sure of it. He has his father's blood. I will tell him of his heritage and train him, and he will see what it is he must do."

Catherine looked to Mario and felt a twist in her gut. It was wrong—what he wanted was wrong. It wasn't right. He couldn't just force it on his nephew like that. Ezio was strong, yes, but right now he was so broken that to be forced like this he would only break further; only pull farther away. Deep down she knew Mario was right about one thing; Italy—_Firenze_—needed another man like Giovanni, but Ezio wasn't his father. He was an Assassin by birth, but he did not have the same will. Maybe he would in time. Maybe he could be as strong and as skilled as his father, but not through the way his uncle wanted. Not like this.

"He needs more time," she spoke softly, and again Mario sighed.

"His training will start tomorrow."

The redhead looked to him, "Give him a day—maybe two. Let him settle in. Let his family settle in. Let him at least come to terms with things. He's still grieving Mario—fully grieving. He needs more time. I'll help him. Just give him more time. _Please_."

The older man met her gaze and watched her for a long, long time. She began to believe he would reject her idea—that he would be harsh and obstinate as he was with his men and had been with her. In the end, though, he closed his eyes to take in a deep breath of air and looked to the _Villa_ tower. He did so for a few moments before turning back to her.

"He needs to start as soon as possible… but I will give you a day—two if it is needed… but he must start soon."

"I understand… what of Claudia and Maria?"

"They are welcome to stay as they please… and I suppose I will tell Claudia of her heritage as well, though I may wait some time for her."

Catherine nodded, "She… probably won't take to it… and... um… Mario… what… what do _I_ tell them—about _me_? Claudia asked why I'm not in England… I… I can't tell them the truth, can I?"

"Not of your true origins—that you cannot say."

"So… tell them I'm part of the Order—that I was sent here from far away to help? That I really am from England, but my father was a lie? Or what? God, I don't even know anymore. I don't want to lie to them, Mario; especially not now."

"You _must_, Catherine. Your secret—that Piece of Eden," Mario replied, jabbing a finger at the object, "must remain a secret between only us—between the Assassins. They cannot know you came from another time. I doubt they would believe it—certainly I still find in unfathomable—but we cannot take chances."

"Not even Ezio?" she asked, and mentally winced at the harshness in her tone.

"Not even Ezio. I may wish him to become an Assassin one day, but he is not one yet. You cannot reveal your true self to him."

Catherine sighed with exasperation, throwing up her arms, "Then what _do_ I tell them? They won't believe what I told them before now."

"Tell them… tell them you were sent from England by the Order in order to train and join our forces—to bolster the Italian Order. You were sent to Giovanni first, but he could not train you in the end, so you were sent to me in secret. You have been training here ever since."

"I… guess that works. I mean… it fits," she mumbled, squeezing her Clock. "It will have to do, I guess…"

"It must," Mario rumbled, eyes focused ahead as he thought deeply. He returned to normal, though, and gripped her shoulder again. "Do what you must... Now… go rest, Catherine. We are all tired. It has been a long night… and… and look after my nephew tomorrow. My niece as well, if you can."

She gave the older man a small smile, "Yeah. I'll try and fit her in."

"Sleep well, little one," he hummed, squeezing gently, and then he left her. Catherine watched him go until he was gone from her sight and then looked to her Clock. It was heavy in her hands, but it was stuck there anyways.

She hated it.

She couldn't recall hating anything more.

It had told her she had to help them, and then it had failed her—made her fail _them_. She had failed them in the worst possible way, and now all there was left was to pick up the pieces. And if that was all she could do, then she was going to her damned best to do it.

She just hoped one day she might her right her grievous wrong, and that Ezio never found out.

**-O-**

**January 2, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

It was not easy to get up. Catherine couldn't recall a time it hadn't been simple to roll out of bed, but today her body was full of lead. Oh, she knew why—crying always made her feel like crud later, and she was definitely feeling it. She honestly wanted to stay under the covers, but she had important things to do today; namely, see to Ezio and his family. They were no doubt starved and in need of Ghita's cooking skills. They also needed new clothes, though that was a task for Dea who ran a small shop in town, being that there was no place for a proper establishment. She would be happy to help, though; the woman had been all too excited to make the redhead's clothes when she'd first asked despite her gender.

So here Catherine was; dressed in her more casual green vest, white undershirt, light pants, and dark boots. Her hair was in a ponytail as always, and she slipped her Clock into the special pocket she'd had made for it in all her vests, finishing her preparations. She slipped out of her room then, though paused as she looked across the railing to the other side where Claudia and Maria's rooms were. It was too early for them to be up even if she'd woken up a bit later than usual—the sun's rays reached into her room rather than just outside—and so she continued to the main hallway stairs and descended down. She made her way to the kitchen where she planned to ask Ghita to prepare a hearty meal. Catherine stopped short, though, as she found a familiar face already there. His back was to her, but when the head maid looked her way he turned and was just as surprised to see her. He wore his father's robes, and again she couldn't help thinking they didn't belong on him—not like this.

"Catherine—you're up," Ezio spoke first, and she couldn't help giving an odd look back as she came over.

"Ah, yeah—I'm usually up earlier. Are… um… Ghita did you get him something to eat yet?" the redhead replied, looking to the maid, whom nodded.

"Yes, I am preparing something now, and will have a meal for his sister and mother. He just came to ask."

"Okay, good. He'll need it—going to give him a tour of the city today," she smiled at him, and he frowned.

"But Uncle Mario said—"

She waved off his perplexity, "He decided to give you a day or two to settle in. Trust me—you'll want it. His training is… well, grueling. Your body will hurt for _days_."

"I see," he chuckled softly, and then grew silent. She noticed and looked, and found him watching her back. She looked down, smiling sadly, and tapped her feet awkwardly against the ground. She knew there was so much he wanted to ask. She could see it in his eyes, and thought she heard him begin to speak, but Ghita tapped her spoon on the pot and pulled it off. She poured a porridge into a bowl which she set onto a plate next to some slices of meat.

"Here, eat up, my Lord," she bowed politely before preparing a plate for Catherine, too. The redhead accepted it with thanks, though her focus was on Ezio. He noticed, of course, and gave a small smile as he took a good chunk out of the meat.

"Normally I would not break my fast so soon or in the kitchen, but… I, ah… I'm hungry."

"It's fine—Ghita's come to tolerate it after all the men eating in the Barracks and me in Mario's study or my room. She was pretty cross at first, though," she chuckled, glancing over at the woman, whom raised a "and-I'm-still-a-little-cross" brow at her. The redhead grinned as she downed some of the porridge. It was fairly bland and desperately needed a _lot_ of brown sugar, but she'd come to be inured to the lack of luxuries from her time in the food department.

"Still refusing to follow the norms, eh?" the young man hummed playfully, to which she snickered.

"Of course not. I mean, I already woke and put on boy's clothes—why stop there?" she purred back, and he laughed. It was a glorious sound to hear, and she only wished his grins and smiled reached his eyes. They didn't, though, and she couldn't help wondering if this prattle was actually worth anything. She sighed softly. "So, um… I figured I could show you the city since you'll be here for however long to train. Depending on what you learn, it could take a while, so, y'know… you should get to know it. I have a good free-running route, and there are horses we can use to see the outskirts. It's not much—Mario wasn't lying—but it's a good place. It grows on you."

"I doubt I will stay long enough for that… but I would not mind seeing the lay of the land. I admit I am… not…" he began, but his voice grew somewhat pained and his expression became crestfallen.

"It's fine—don't worry. Mario understands. Just… just don't worry about. Try… try and just enjoy things. We can… we can catch up. It's been almost six months after all. I'm sure there's plenty to say. Or, well, I'm kind of boring, but, um, yeah," she tried, but wasn't sure it was doing much good. It didn't feel like it, anyways. If anything, the air between them only felt more awkward. His hum was all she had to know he'd heard, but then it was quiet again except for their eating and the sounds of Ghita and the servants working. Of course her paranoia grew, and she only hoped he didn't distrust her or dislike her or worse—that he hated her. She knew the last one would break her.

"Well, that was… that was good. Thank-you, Ghita," Ezio rumbled as he finished, although he'd only consumed half of it. She could say no better, though; she could only eat half of hers before she set it down, too. Food just wasn't satisfying at the moment, although it did revitalize her some.

"Ready for a tour?"

Ezio looked to her, and after a moment, nodded. Again she gave him a small smile and motioned with her head towards the exit to the gardens. He followed behind her, easily keeping a step or two behind. When she glanced back, she realized there was a perfunctory motion to it. It was obvious his thoughts were elsewhere, and she began to wonder if this had been the right choice—perhaps he should have been training instead. At least the he would have something more to focus on, and Mario would have kept him busy. What was she thinking? Unfortunately, she'd started this; it would have been poor of her to stop.

"So, ah… it's… well, most of it is kind of dead because of the lack of care, but this is the garden—it goes all the way to the wall and the sides pretty much," she began, motioning to the brown grass and shrubs and trees. She could at least say it was a _little _better than when she'd come. Some green color had started to come back after it had rained quite a bit, but the winter was making it hard. The trees had no leaves still, and the path and benches were a little unkempt. "I wanted to maybe make it better, but… well, with training it's hard to find time. It's not a bad spot to come, to though, when you want to think."

"I imagine it was quite beautiful in its prime," he hummed, looking around, but again there was a lack of sincerity. He was still far away.

"I thought so, too… so, uh, yeah. This is the garden. Once it hits the side it becomes all just stone and dirt towards the front, although there are some statue pedestals. I found two of them in the city so far, but that's it. And, um, well, you saw the entry way, but now you can get a good look. Oh, and of course you can see the _Villa_'s walls. I've taken down some of the boards and took care of some vines, so it looks a lot better than when I first came. Anyways, come on. We can walk through the city… or would you rather we take to the roofs?"

"We can walk the streets."

He smiled when he said it, but it was meretricious. She could only return it, though, and lead him through the garden to the side of the _Villa_, pointing out the statues she'd mentioned, and to the well not far away that was still boarded up. She led him down to the training ring, explaining that and the Barracks where some of the men were already appearing to stretch and yawn deeply. Ezio hummed or nodded appropriately, and she kept them moving. She showed him the city just as she had viewed it the first time; she brought him to the shops they'd visited the night before; she introduced him to the seamstress and a baker and the butcher. She showed him the run down part of it and what buildings still retained their beauty. She showed him the church and the fountain, though it gave him no revelation as it had her. She showed him the old brothel and some of the good places to climb. She showed him all she could, and he took it as he had from the beginning: with an insincere smile mixed with humming and nodding.

It was painful. Her chest was tight and heavy throughout the whole tour, and she wished he could see how the city was like the people—hardy and capable of overcoming any tribulation. She wished he could see that _he_ could be like that, too, but it was a stupid wish. He had lost his family just days ago. What was she expecting?

"Right, well, that's the city. It's kind of small—certainly barely anything compared to _Firenze_, but, ah, the farmland outside is fairly nice. If you're up for it, we could take the horses for a ride?" she offered as she brought them to the opened entryway. The young man looked out into the sunlit grass and, after a few long moments, nodded. "Okay. I know a couple of horses that always need a good run."

They were two chestnut horses with black muzzles and differing socks, and already they were shuffling with pent up energy in their stalls. The stable hand and his boy were all too happy to saddle them up and let Ezio and Catherine take them out at a trot along the dirt road made around the city. It carved through all the farmland around the fortress and was patrolled at night often. During the day it was seldom watched—guards on the fortress towers could see it all well enough. There were generally only a few people, and certainly none were actively out on the road besides the two of them as the sun neared half-way through the sky. Catherine was glad for it—it made it easier to steal glances at Ezio and watch his face change only seldom; generally to one of consternation. Sometimes she caught him looking at her, but it was never for long, and she dreaded the way he did so. He had so many questions, and yet he was so hesitant about asking.

Ultimately, she decided it couldn't continue—the silence and awkwardness was eating at them, and, frankly, she would rather know if he hated her now rather than later and not lie about it. It would just make it easier. So, sighing aloud, she veered her horse off to the right towards a tiny patch of trees near the edge. There was an abandoned shack, too; once used perhaps for farming, but no more. There she turned to the young man, and kept her gaze locked to his.

"Ezio… I… if… if there's something bothering you—about me… or anything, I guess…just… please. _Tell me_. Ask me your questions, and if it's… the other things… then… you talked to me last night… but… I mean… I understand if you… if you don't want to…" she began, and despite telling herself to not look away her eyes fell to the reigns in her hands. Beside her, the young man let out his own deep, tired sigh.

"I… I admit… I… I do not know what to think—my father… Uncle's words… _you_ being here... I do not understand. So much I thought to be true has been a lie…'

"Giovanni didn't _want_ to lie to you," Catherine replied, but had to pause when Ezio looked up at her sharply, almost accusingly. She was the one to sigh this time and dismounted. Thankfully, he followed suit, and she brought him to the shade where she leaned against the tree. She folded her arms, biting her lip for a moment.

"You knew?" he rumbled before she went on, the accusation still there, and she nodded.

"Yes… I knew Giovanni was more than a banker—he was an Assassin, Ezio. Your robes… he wore them for that part of his work. He wanted to tell you, though. He hoped you and Federico would succeed him, and he wanted to tell you soon, but…"

Ezio's fingers clenched and shook some, "Why? Why did he not tell me?"

"He wanted to protect you—from the dangers. I… I'm not really the one who should tell you. Mario should, but your father did have enemies—the kind with power. The kind that could circumvent law and take your family. His life wasn't an easy one, and he _was_ training you. Whenever you ran or sparred with 'Rico, you were training. He… God, he wanted you to tell you, and he just… he never got to…"

He struggled. She could see it. His gaze was on the ground as his fingers tightened more. She could see his uncovered hand's knuckles turning white, and were it not for the reigns in his grip, he might have drawn blood. His body shook some, too, and there was such despair in his eyes. Guilt wracked her every inside and she wished she hadn't spoken at all. She wished a lot of thing, but like all the rest she couldn't change any of it. She could only move forward and pray things turned out alright.

"Are… are you a part of… of whatever it is my father was? An Assassin? What even is that?" he growled, though she couldn't tell if it wasn't directly aimed at her as he threw his arms up.

She sighed again, "I… yes. Sort of. I was… I was sent here from England to join your father's Assassin Order because he was the only one in _Italia_ thus far. They wanted him to train me, but he ended up being too busy, so he made plans to send me here to your Uncle. It took longer than he thought because he had to speak with the Order in England… thus… y'know, I lived with you for a month. It's, ah… also why I would go running with you and sparring with 'Rico—he was training me some before I came here. And then, well, I left, and I've been here training with Mario for the last six months."

"…Mario is an Assassin, too," he mused as he digested it slowly. He shook a bit less, though, but she couldn't tell if his anger had ebbed.

"Yes. I… Um, I don't know if I should say it…," she began, but then she saw his forlorn expression and let out an exasperated breath of air. "But you know what? Fuck it. You don't need lies or pandering or—or whatever. Although, I, ah… I don't know much, still. Only a little. Mario hasn't told me a lot, but I haven't asked because I've been too busy to, but... well, Mario _is_ an Assassin, but a different sect or Guilds of it—he runs the mercenaries. There are apparently other Guilds that are loyal to the Assassin, but I only know this one... It's… it's all kind of complicated, but all the allies are part of the Brotherhood in their own way—Assassins directly—and each country has its own Order. Or, well, some don't, but the more powerful countries tend to. I, uh, don't really know all the details. You'd have to ask Mario for more."

"I see… did… did you know about my father specifically?"

She winced, "Um… no... not really. He didn't tell me much beyond what all the Order was about. I… I never heard what he was investigating. I didn't even know who his enemies—the Templar—might be. I'm sorry."

Ezio became quiet, and he did not speak for a long time. He did not look at her, either; mostly his eyes were on the ground, but they would rove all around, too. His fingers remained tight the entire time, never relaxing, although his shaking lessened some. She could see his eyes water briefly, but he pushed back his sorrow. He was trying to make rage take it over, but as the seconds passed she saw even that quell some. She didn't know if it was because he just didn't have the strength or it was something else, but after what felt an eternity his hands unclenched and he sighed so deeply she thought he might collapse right then and there. Instead he moved towards the nearest tree and sat down so he could lean against it. He let his head fall back against the bark, shutting his eyes. Catherine said nothing nor did she move. She didn't dare do so—not until he seemed to notice and opened his eyes again. Once more, he sighed, but it was not so deep.

"Thank-you… I think—for telling me," he murmured, and his voice just sounded so weak; so defeated. "I… I still do not know what to make of all this. It sounds like some fantasy, but… but if _you_ are saying it… and just the fact _you_ are here… it must be true. All of it must be true—my father; these Assassins…"

"I know what you mean," she tried, smiling a bit. "I didn't know much when I first came to the _Palazzo_… I almost thought it wasn't real, but your father told me all those things, and then your brother…"

"Federico knew?" Ezio blinked, looking to her, but then made a scoff. "Of course he knew. He always knew things, didn't he?"

"He didn't know everything, either—probably not much more than me. He hated not telling you, too."

"I wish they had. Then maybe—," he began, but stopped as his throat tightened and his eyes watered again. Catherine's chest tightened in kind and her hesitance was broken to bring herself over to him. She sat on her knees beside him, reaching over to turn his face so he could see her.

"Ezio, it's not your fault. Even if you knew you wouldn't have been able to do anything. You were _one_ person… and Mario said even his men couldn't have done anything. Your father and brothers couldn't be broken out of prison and there were too many guards at the hanging. You did all you could—the enemy was just… they were stronger."

He took in a shaky breath, "Then I should have been stronger. If I had just known—!"

"It wouldn't have changed it, Ezio. Federico has more training than you and knew, and Giovanni was a skilled Assassin, but neither of them could stop it, either. You can't blame yourself for this, Ezio. You didn't kill them. You can't be blamed for doing all you could, and you killed Uberto—the man who killed them, right?" she replied, and he nodded. "Then it's done—you avenged your family. You've rid the city of a man who would slaughter other innocents. You've done a _good_ thing."

"Have I, though? Have I done _anything_? And now I must flee my home and pray I can keep my family safe. How have I done any good?!" he rasped, tearing his head away. Catherine released the reigns—the horses wouldn't leave—and grasped both side of his head gently and made him look at her again.

"_Ezio_," she began and waited until he was really listening to her before she continued. "You stopped a bad man. Maybe there are others, but you've already done more good than almost everyone in that city. You've kept your mother and sister safe. You got them to _Monteriggioni_. You're going to take them further to keep them safe. You're risking so much for them and putting all this burden on yourself. How can you say you're not a good person? I've met priests who have not done so much. You're a _good_ person, Ezio. You need to believe that… and if you can't believe it yourself… then believe me. I know that's asking a lot. I probably don't deserve to be given that kind of faith when I lied about things in _Firenze_, but… but I'm not lying now. You're a _good_ man, Ezio. One of the best. And… and if it proves my point…. Here."

Catherine released his face to reach into her vest and pull the leather strap with his family's crest on it over her head. His eyes widened slightly as she took his arm and put it into his hand.

"Take it. Remember our promise? I said I wouldn't give this back unless you were a good person still. So. Here. You're still a good person. You may have changed some, but you're still you. Right now you're a little hard to find because you're still dealing with everything, but you're there. So take it."

Ezio stared at it, dumbfounded; like he couldn't believe it was there. Gingerly, his other hand traced the A and he looked to her every so often. She could only hope she was getting through it him, but she had lied a little. He _had_ changed—how could he not, though? His family had been hanged right before his eyes and now his world was upside down and so much more complex and larger and dangerous. He had lived a life of luxury and now he was a wanted man on the run trying to stay alive. You couldn't _not_ change after that, but she hadn't lied when she said he was still good. She knew he was. She could see it there in him and what he had done. He was still _Ezio_—he was just hiding right now. He was still good, though.

"Catherine… you… thank-you… but keep it. I would rather you have it still," he smiled—_really_ smiled—and put it back in her hands.

"And what if I force it on you and refuse to take it back, mm?" she smirked slightly, pushing it right back. He raised a brow, his smile becoming a grin.

"Must I make a deal with you _again_, you stubborn woman?"

"Probably. I'm actually probably more stubborn than before."

He let out a chuckle, "Then I am doomed… still, I would rather you have it—especially once I complete my training and leave."

She hid the hurt she felt, "And I would rather you keep it. It's your family crest, Ezio. It belongs to you. And… okay, you know what? Let's make that deal like you said … By the end of your training… if you still can't believe that you're a good a person, I'll keep it. But if you _do_ believe it—and you will—then you have to take it back. Alright? Do we have a deal?"

"Catherine," he sighed with exasperation, but paused when she held out her hand, demanding a shake. He looked at her as if trying to find a way to get out of it, but ultimately he shook her hand. "Very well. You are insufferable."

"What? You thought I would have changed after six months?" she smirked as she put the emblem over her head. To her relief, he let out a small laugh and she saw that Ezio she knew appear.

"No… although I would have hoped you might have in _certain_ areas," he mused, giving her a look over. She laughed and shoved him roughly, but playfully.

"Oh, now I _know_ you haven't changed! Still a louse!" she scoffed as she stood up while giving him a look.

"And you are still as rough as ever. I had hoped I would not need to worry about being pushed off a roof, but now I have my doubts," he purred playfully.

"Oh, there's always a chance of that… but I'll wait until you know the city better. For now—want to keep riding around the city or head back? I can show you more of the _Villa_ and we can get some food or you can see what the training is like or we can free run in the city, too. Bet I can outrun you right now."

Ezio stood, hands on his hips, "Oh? I doubt that. I beat Federico the last time we raced."

"He _let_ you beat him, you mean," she smirked before returning to her horse and mounting up. "So. What'll it be? Go all the way around or back the way we came?"

"Hmm..." the young man hummed as he pulled back up onto his horse, too. "I should see all of it. Let's go around."

"Sounds good… and, ah… it's good to see you back—even if only a little," she smiled softly as she moved her horse to a trot. He came up beside her, smiling back.

"It… feels good—to be able to talk like this. It has only been days, but it feels so long. I… I apologize if I seem too… cross or distant."

She shook her head, "Ezio, don't worry. You lost your family. I don't expect you to bounce back… especially since I lied to you. I'm actually surprised you're not mad at me."

"I admit I am upset, but… if father had told you not to say anything, then it had to have been for good reason. Also, I do not believe you are lying to me now, and… well, perhaps it is selfish or foolish, I don't know, but I would like to have the fun we did in _Firenze_. I know I can't _really_ have it, but…"

"No…. it won't be the same, but we can still have fun. And, if it helps… I don't need to lie about being part of the Order anymore," the redhead smiled, although her stomach churned. Yes, she wouldn't need to lie about that, and yet she would still have to lie about her true origins and more. It wasn't right, but in the end it was better fewer knew about it. Still, she wished he could at least tell him.

"I suppose that does, and I would not mind that fun," he chuckled.

"Well, just so you know—when training begins the only fun you'll have is sleeping," Catherine snickered, and Ezio gave out an exaggerated groan. She grinned at him. "So we should enjoy these two days off while you can."

"Indeed. Any ideas?" he mused back with a wry grin.

"Yeah. Try and keep up," she purred before kicking her heels into her horse's sides with a mighty "ha!". The horse responded at once, and they were off at a fast gallop. She vaguely heard Ezio shouting behind her, but then she was too busy laughing as she urged her horse onwards. It wasn't too far around the city—certainly not while galloping—and so after passing by a few more farmlands, pastures, and some patches of trees, the stable came back into sight. She slowed her horse then, and laughed again when Ezio went by, having not expected her to do so. He reigned his horse in and she brought hers to a trot to catch up. He was laughing, too, and it was so good to see genuine happiness in his features.

"Well, well, looks like I won," she smirked, to which he huffed.

"You cheated!"

"As I recall, the last race we had _you_ cheated, so we're even. Now don't be a sore loser and come on. Just be glad I didn't make any bet."

"I see your time here has only made you crafty."

"Oh, Ezio, did you honestly think I would become a compliant young lady while I was gone?" she purred, batting her eyelashes.

"As I said…"

"Keep your eyes on the road," Catherine mused as they brought the horses to the stable and dismounted. She gave her beast a good petting before handing him to the stable hand to be taken care of. She sometimes liked to do it herself—she'd done it when she was younger while taking lessons—but today she had another kind of creature to look after. "So. You hungry? Ghita makes a small noon meal for the men during their break to keep them going until dinner"

"Mm… I think I will be alright," Ezio replied with a shrug.

"Alright, but there's nothing else until dinner," she hummed, but he just shrugged again. "Alright… then I guess I can show you the inside of the _Villa_ proper. It's… pretty empty, but it's still nice."

"Just lead the way—you know it better than I."

Lead she did. He'd already seen the city, so she brought him through the main area, although she did pause to talk to the various shop keepers or a few people who were out and about now. They were surprised to find Ezio was Mario's nephew, though mentioned they could see some resemblance and welcomed him to their city. When asked if he planned to stay he would merely say he was thinking on it, but Catherine knew he was set on leaving. The notion brought her some sorrow, but she pushed it away. It was his family, and who was she to tell him what to do? She imagined Mario might try to make him, and a part of her did want him to stay, too, but she wasn't sure she had the heart to ask that of him.

It would be some time before that, though, and she knew training could take months, so there was time. It was selfish, but she thought maybe he could be convinced to stay. For now, however, she set the thought aside and brought him back up the stairs where training was going on. Mario was not there; rather Ottavio was handling things. She paused their tour to show him some of the practices. At the moment it was sword play, but some of the other tricks such as throwing dirt or goading were being used. Ezio showed some interest, which was good—it was easier to learn when one was intrigued. She had them continue on after a few moments and come into the _Villa_. Before they could go farther, though, a shout came from above.

"There you are! Where have you been?" Claudia demanded as she power-walked with a huff down the main stairs to meet them.

"Catherine was showing me the city and land around it. It is actually a charming place," Ezio replied, but his sister was hardly quelled.

"How long must we stay here, brother?"

He frowned, rubbing the back of his head, "I am not sure—however long I need to train and be able to protect us on the road."

"We cannot stay here—it is… it is not home!" Claudia went on, but even she knew it was a pointless argument. Still, she folded her arms over her chest and huffed. "I want to go home."

"I know, little one, I know," her brother sighed and embraced his sister warmly. He cupped her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. "I will do what I can to learn quickly… but for now… please, be patient—for me? For Mother?"

Claudia took a long time before she sighed, "I… I _suppose_… but what am I to wear? There is nothing here! We had to leave everything! And I will _not_ wear those rags the maid here gave me! They are not clothes for an Auditore!"

"There is a seamstress in town—she made my vest here. I'm sure she'd love to make you some dresses, and I don't think Mario would mind spending the coin. I also have the dresses I brought with me here. You can wear them until you have your own attire again," Catherine offered, and though the young woman still looked displeased, the severity of it was lessened.

"She… does seem to have done a good job on your clothes… but—_ugh_! You _still_ wear boy's clothes?"

The redhead sighed as she rolled her eyes, but was smiling, "Yes, Claudia, I still wear boy's clothes. If you want, Ghita can take you to Mario to see about getting new clothes. And if you want to try my dresses, you'll find them in the chest in my room—I'm on the other side; third hallway."

"Very well… thank-you. I suppose," she huffed again. "At least the food was satisfactory. It is certainly not as good as Annetta's but it will do."

"Just wait until dinner. Ghita is very good at what she does. You can find her in the servant's quarters—just through there. Follow the hall all the way down and through the kitchen. She may even be in there right now fixing lunch for the men."

"Claudia," Ezio spoke up as the young woman turned to go. She stopped, of course, and he glanced up to where their rooms were. "Is… how is Mother?"

His sister sighed, "She… she is praying. Still. I… she will not speak. She ate—barely. I… I worry for her. Brother, I do not know what to do…"

He embraced her again, "We will think of something. Now… now go on—see to your dresses. I will see you for dinner."

"You better… and Catherine, you as well. I have much to ask of you!" the young woman snapped, to which the redhead could only grin sheepishly. Claudia stormed off then, and Catherine looked to Ezio.

"I feel like she kind of still doesn't like me, but at the same time…?"

He chuckled, "She is just upset as I was. She actually missed you when you were gone, although she refused to admit it."

"…Wait. _Really_? I mean, I figured she didn't hate me, but she _missed_ me?"

"Yes!" Ezio laughed. "You would be surprised. No, we all missed you quite a lot. Even Leonardo asked of you when Mother brought me to finally really meet him. I had been… unsure of him the few times before, but he is a good man. He… He, ah… fixed my father's blade here."

He showed her the mechanism, and she vaguely recalled Giovanni mentioning it once—a Hidden Blade. It was the perfect tool for an Assassin. She smiled as she pushed back the memories to keep the tug in her heart at bay.

"He's always been amazing… and, ah, I missed all of you, too. I wanted to come visit so badly… but if you were to think I was in England… well…," she rumbled, looking down, but then waved her hands. "Anyways, come—I have the _Villa_ to show you."

He nodded and followed her into the weapons room first. As always, it was empty for the most part, although some new weapons had been added recently. The same could be said for other areas. The gallery finally had one or two paintings brought by passing merchants, and with more of the boards gone it was brighter inside. Overall, though, it was still mostly barren and not much to look at besides the rooms. She showed hers last, being that he'd seen the others where his sister and mother slept.

"I haven't really done much with it, although I have been drawing a bit when I can. Mostly I've been reading—you probably saw the mess on Mario's desk," Catherine chuckled as she sat on the foot of her bed and leaned back some.

He grinned, "I believe 'mess' is an understatement."

"Hey, it's all for the quest for knowledge. You should maybe try reading, too—maybe then you'll finally use that brain of yours," she smirked while he rolled his eyes.

"I use it plenty, thank-you."

"Uh-huh," she snickered as she watched him looked about the room, taking note of it. She breathed in deeply before she asked something that had been on her mind for a while now. "So… what all happened… while I was gone? Like… I pretty much started training the day after I came and haven't stopped. I haven't done much else… but what about you all? Claudia had that young man pining after her, I think… and then did 'Rico ever get fired? Did Petruccio get better at drawing? Oh, and did your brother ever teach you to woo a woman right?"

Ezio laughed—genuinely laughed—and leaned against her dresser, "So many questions… but, yes, much happened, I suppose. Actually, Federico _was_ fired when he put a bag of coin on the roof of the bank. Father was able to save his reputation, but he worked privately for him after that. Father was _furious_."

Catherine giggled, "I bet. 'Rico was so bad…"

"Indeed… and, yes, Claudia did have a man who took interest—Duccio, was his name, but he was a scoundrel. He was meant to be betrothed to her, but he was unfaithful. I make quick work of him and ensured he would never touch her again, the bastard," the young man growled, curling his lip. He relaxed before he continued, "Petruccio was adamant about drawing and writing—he wanted to make you and Mother proud. He… well, he did not get near to your level, but he loved it and it made him happy. He was starting something else. He wanted feathers for something when I caught him outside once. He was supposed to be indoors—his illness has made him weak. He insisted, though, and so I got them for him. He… he never said what it was for."

Catherine frowned and looked down at the ground with him. She knew the pain she felt was nothing compared to Ezio, but she grieved for the young boy's loss. Yet, in a morbid way, his death might have been a blessing. His illness was bound to have killed him long before he became a true adult, but still—it hurt.

"And—er, yes. Federico did finally help me," the young man chuckled, pushing back his sorrow. He looked at her almost a little nervously before he grinned slightly. "I, ah… I actually met a woman—Cristina. I courted her, actually. Her father was furious, of course, and my father did not necessarily approve, but… well, we were in love."

Catherine had to work hard to hide her disappointment, and that was a conundrum. A surprising one. She didn't know why the thought of him courting a woman made her chest constrict or how disappointed she felt. It was weird, and she hated it, to be honest. She felt bad for feeling it, too. It was stupid, so she shoved it away.

"I… that… that's wonderful… did…"

"We did not get betrothed or anything—we were… still courting, but… I felt strongly for her. And she… she helped me give my father and brothers a proper burial. I asked her to come with me, but she could not leave her family. We said our good-byes then."

"I… I, um… you could possibly see her again," Catherine offered, and was again surprised at how hard it was to do so.

He smiled sadly, shaking his head, "No… no, it is better this way. I can never return to _Firenze_, and I will not part her from her loved ones. I… I will wish she had, but I do not blame her and wish her only the best. I will miss her, I know."

"Of course. I mean… you loved her. It's never easy to let go of someone you love," the redhead smiled comfortingly, and he managed to return it.

"So I learned," he chuckled pitifully before sighing. "Beyond that… we were as we always were. Federico and I caused trouble, of course… ah! Vieri… before tonight we got into another fight in the streets. He gave me this scar here."

"Wait—a scar?" the redhead frowned, but then gasped when he pointed at it. She came over to peer closer, and sure enough; a small gap in his growing scruff and over his lip on the right side. "Jesus—how—?"

"Little bastard threw a rock and got a lucky shot. It is not so bad, though. Unfortunately, he did not learn his lesson still… I cannot believe he ambushed us on the road like that—and to kill us!"

She frowned, "That… yeah, that was weird… well, he's been beaten off and there's no way he'll come back any time soon. He's a coward in the end—you and I both know that."

"'Coward' is putting it nicely," the young man snarled.

"Well, don't worry about him… and I guess, uh… well, that's the _Villa_. Is, uh… is there anything else? We could get you new clothes, too. Although, you could fit into some of the clothes for Mario's men. I don't think mine would fit you—not even the vests," she mused wryly, and was glad to see him relax, musing on her suggestion.

"I suppose new attire would be good—I cannot only wear my father's robes… and perhaps that run across the roofs would be nice. I could use it to clear my head, and for some fun—to run for the hell of it."

"Sounds like a plan. Come on then. It'll be good today, too—it's cold in the morning, but with the afternoon sun it feels great. Just try and keep up," she smirked, and the young man raised a disbelieving brow.

"Me? Keep up with _you_? I see six months has made you rather arrogant."

"Six months has given me time to practice every single morning. But don't worry—I'll be nice since you don't know the path yet. You'll still eat my dust, though."

"Eat your dust? You still use such strange sayings!" he laughed, and she just laughed right on with him.

**-O-**

The day passed by quickly after that, which was a shame. Ezio had smiled and laughed more in their short time of free running and climbing for their remaining hours than he had the entire day. It was a good thing to see, and she was more than happy to do it for him. He needed this—this little moment of peace. She had needed it once, and now it was his turn. She knew it would be temporary, of course, but it was something, and she would be happy to take him on the path every morning before his training. She just hoped it would be enough to ease the pain over the coming days.

For today, though, it seemed to really work and he managed to remain cheerful through to dinner. Claudia was in better spirits, as apparently Dea was already starting on her new clothes, which Mario had kindly paid for. Oh, she was still dour, but certainly less so. Unfortunately, Catherine doubted the improvement would remain, and it may not for months to come. For dinner, however, it served to make the young Auditore more curious in her questions rather than pressing and nosy. Mario was the one to answer, as he had joined them this night in the dining room. He didn't say everything—in fact, it could be considered the bare minimum, but he did explain to his niece that her father had been part of a secret order, of which Catherine and himself belonged to as well. Claudia was skeptical of such news, and especially of the redhead being from the England Order, sent to train with her father and join the Italian one. However, her disbelief was wavering, and Catherine didn't doubt she would come to believe it soon enough.

Ezio believed it now, though, or was slowly starting to. It was obvious he was still coming to terms, but once he began to work with Mario and learned more he would see. What he would do it with the knowledge was till opaque, but that would come later. Tonight they mourned the dead and spoke of memories; of Mario ad Giovanni's younger years and how they had lived their lives. The only exception was Maria, whom did not join them. Claudia had told them she still prayed in her room, and so Ghita brought food to her. They all silently worried for the woman, but what could they do? She was broken, and the only obvious way to fix her was to undo what had been done. For Catherine that was a deep blow; here she had an artifact that could control time, and yet it would not work. It was like a cruel joke, and she had to work hard to keep her guilt from overcoming her at dinner. She had wanted to flee more than once; to hide away from their ultimate judgement, but she told herself she wasn't a coward and owed it to them to remain and support them.

Dinner only lasted for a few hours with talk taking up most of it, and then their Uncle bade them get some more rest. Claudia agreed, as did Catherine, but Ezio oddly went to his Uncle, asking to speak privately. He agreed, of course, and they went off while the two young women were left to their own devices. Catherine bid Claudia goodnight, which was returned before she headed off. The redhead, however, remained in the hallway, near the entrance, and waited for Ezio to come from Mario's study. There was one last thing she had for him, and she hoped it would really help him as it had her. Thankfully, the talk was not long, and the young man appeared looking a bit wearier. He put on a grin when he spotted her, though.

"You waited up just for me?" he mused playfully. Catherine chuckled as she pushed off the pillar and walked over to him.

"Kinda. There's one last thing I want to show you—I think it might help with everything."

He raised a brow, "Lead on then."

The redhead just grinned and brought him outside where she gestured upwards before doing a running climb. She had gotten a lot better, and so was up to the first roof in seconds. Ezio joined her a moment later, his brow still raised. She just grinned some more and moved a bit further up on a flatter part or at least where they would slide less. There she sat and pat the place next to her. He chuckled, finally understanding and settled down beside her. She motioned to the city before them.

"It's no _Firenze_… but it's still pretty. And you can see more—or farther, anyways. See all the lights way in the distance? Those are all the farmers and such. Way, waaay out there is one of the trade towns on the road, but they're pretty small," she explained as she leaned back on her arms. "I do have to say that you can see a _lot_ more stars out here. Just look."

Ezio turned his gaze upward and hummed, "You're right… there are more… it may not be _Firenze_, but it's not so bad. This city, too. It… it's small, but humble and welcoming. I imagine I will think more of it as I stay… but at least it has the most important thing here."

"Oh? And what's that?" she hummed, turning her head to him, and he did the same, grinning.

"Friends. Particularly redheaded ones who have not changed much."

She flushed a little as she laughed, "You'll find I don't change much—you just learn there's more to me."

"So I have," he chuckled back and leaned on his arms, too. He was quiet for a few moments before he let out a soft sigh. "I know I said it before, but… forgive me if I ever seem… distant or I snap at you at all or even seem angry. I will not mean to."

"And like I said before, Ezio, don't worry. I get it. I'm pretty sure I snapped at you at the _Palazzo_ before, and I can guarantee I will in the ring. Just know I am your friend and I'm here if you need me. Like… like if you need to talk, you can call on me and we'll come up here and talk like we did in _Firenze_, or we can go take the horses for a ride or just run. Whatever you want, just tell me, and we'll do it."

Ezio was quiet for a bit again, but he was smiling this time, "Thank-you, Catherine. Truly. I did not know what to expect when coming here, but I'm glad you are here."

Catherine smiled back and reached over to squeeze his hand. He returned it only marginally, but it was all she needed to know he was trying. She retracted her hand to sit up more properly, pulling one knee to her chest and resting her chin on it as she faced him.

"I'm happy to be here… so… well, we're here and all… is there anything more you want to say? I guess… like… oh—what did you ask Mario? Or would you rather not say?"

He waved his hand, "No, I am fine with saying so. I only meant to tell him I wished to start training tomorrow. You have helped immensely, and I believe I am ready."

"You're sure?" she pressed carefully, but he nodded.

"Yes. I may waver some, I know, but I need to get stronger as soon as possible. I must protect my family—Claudia, Mother... they do not need this. I must protect them from it as best I can."

"Then Mario will help you do it, and I will if I can. Y'know… I just might be able to beat your ass. I've got six months on you, little boy," she grinned, and he scoffed at her.

"Ugh—you with the 'little boy'… You may have gotten better a free-running, but there is no way you will beat me in the ring."

"Well, don't cry when I prove you wrong," Catherine snickered, garnering a pout from him. She laughed a bit before simmering down. "Anyways, if you feel you're ready, then you can start tomorrow. I add in jogging and free-running, so feel free to join. We wake pretty early—Ghita can help you get up on time. She can get you some of the men's gear, too, for training. You'll want it with how sweaty and dirty you can get."

He nodded, "Sounds good. Mario said it will be tough. Was he…?"

"Not exaggerating at _all_. If anything 'tough' doesn't even begin to cover it," she sniggered at his dismayed expression. She clapped his shoulder to cheer him up without much success. "You'll get used to it, don't worry. In the meantime, don't worry about it until tomorrow. My offer to talk still stands, too—anything else on your mind tonight?"

"Not really," he shrugged, though paused and then smiled at her. "Except that… it is good to see you again. I do not remember if I said so, but it is. You were with us only a month, but…"

"I feel the same. It's like… a piece of home is here now," she replied, and he nodded.

"Yes… it's like that. It must sound silly coming from me, but there it is. I am glad you are here, and that you will help me."

"And I always will if I can help. I got your back, Ezio. I'm guessing you have mine, right?"

He laughed, "Of course."

"Good. Although we both know I'm going to have to keep _you_ out of trouble, as always," she smirked, giving him a look. He pouted right on back.

"Like always?! You got into trouble, too!"

"_Only_ because _you_ dragged me along with you!"

"You got into some yourself!"

"_Lies_! Don't deny it—you got into trouble all the time! You always refused to listen and got into trouble!

"What—you never said anything! You were happy to come along!"

"Ah-ha! So you admit you got into trouble! And I was only happy to come along because it was fun to watch you mess up! 'Rico thought the same!"

"I did not admit anything! _Agh_! You are impossible!" Ezio guffawed, throwing up his arms and then leaned forward on his knees. Catherine just huffed right on back and pretended to be offended. That, however, lasted all of a few seconds before she laughed aloud and the young man followed suit. They laughed and laughed and laughed until it hurt and tears came down their eyes, and though it was meant to be of joy, there pain was there, too. It would probably always be there, and yet it was not as bad. Not in this moment, anyways.

"So. Want to keep having stupid arguments or just sit here until we fall asleep?" Catherine mused after they'd calmed down. Ezio hummed thoughtfully before he leaned back, admiring the city.

"How about sitting and enjoying the view with a friend?"

She smiled warmly, "That sounds like a plan to me."

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**16 **– _End_

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**TMWolf: **_And there's chapter 16! Lots of Catzio this chapter, although nothing romantic. That's going to take a while-the poor guy just lost his family, and he's going to be thinking of Cristina for a while, but know there wiiiiiillll be fluff eventually. It just takes it's sweet time. They are friends, though. Sort of. The trust needs to be rebuilt some, but they both want to be friends again, so that will help. Claudia is another story, but don't worry-she'll have her debut chapter, too._

_For now, training will start and we'll get waaaaaay in-depth to how society in Mario's soldiers works. I'm going to add a lot to it and it's MY ideas, not necessarily canon, although I try to keep it reasonable. So, prepare for some fun in that. Also, expect more time-skips to start happening soon-I've got about 1.5 years to go through, after all. _

_Until then... well, update's next week! Feel free to ask questions or comments or whatever! I always love to hear them :)_


	18. Dog Days Are Over

**TMWolf: **_Alright! Time for an update guys! I do have some news: I am starting summer school this coming Monday, so I don't know if updates will be regular as always, but I will do my best! It's physics, so it's a tough class. Just bear with me, though! :) I also have an art commission to work on, which comes first, but I'll do what I can to update on time!_

_Anyways, this chapter is a fun one. It expands a LOT on mercenary life and life in general in Monteriggioni. As such, THESE CONCEPTS ARE MINE AND NOT NECESSARILY BASED OFF CANON ALTHOUGH I TRY TO INCLUDE SOME NOTIONS FROM SOCIETY. KINDA. Just know that there's no set thing on his mercenaries worked in the game, so I wanted toe expand on it and how it worked, and also because there's some important stuff related to it._

_Otherwise, the way canon characters act is based off the canon and my interpretation of it._

_For reviews:_

_**Laurel: **This chapter is a bit long, too, so enjoy! :'D So glad you still love it! I hope you'll continue to!_

_And thanks so much for all your review guys-WE HIT OVER 100, WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! You guys are seriously awesome! I love reading and replying to all of them, so please feel free to let me know what you think or if I have any mistakes or anything! And don't be afraid to ask questions! I can't answer all if spoilers are involved, but I'll do what I can to answer what I can :)_

_Now, ah, the song is from Florence + The Machine - Dog Days Are Over. Song doesn't really fit the theme, but the title itself fit in my opinion, ha ha._

_That's all for now, so enjoy! :)_

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**17 **\- _Dog Days Are Over_

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**January 3, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"You're sure you're ready?"

Ezio didn't answer right away as he adjusted his bracers; shifting the leather armor this way and that until it was situated comfortably over his sleeve. As she'd told him, he fit snuggly into the general outfit used by Mario's men, although it was a little odd seeing him wear the tattered garbs, consisting of a thin white under shirt settled beneath a bound vest kept close to his waist by a red sash. He wore loose pants with calf-high boots—all very different from his former noble attire or Assassin robes. She could tell he felt awkward in them; his face was set with sheepishness as he tried to be as comfortable as possible. It didn't help the clothes were a tiny bit too big, but none of the men were quite his size. They were either too big or too small. Luckily, Dea would be working on proper training and casual attire for him, but it would be a few days before he had anything he could really call his own.

"Yes," he sighed as he either gave up or was satisfied with his work. "I told you I need to begin. You do not need to coddle me."

Catherine raised a brow, grinning a little, "But you _are_ two years younger than me. By all means I can coddle you."

"Catherine…"

"I kid, I kid," she snickered, but then paused to come over and grab his sash. He raised his own brow at the action, and she gave him a look before tightening it far more than he had. He grunted as he was jerked and frowned, expecting an answer. She gave it as she adjusted other things, "If your sash is loose, it'll be in the way and make your shirts too loose as well. It'll be better once Dea finishes your own set of training clothes. They'll be basically the same as theses, but fit you much better."

He gestured to her, "Why do you not wear ones like it then?"

She stepped back to check her work and was pleased. He would not be occluded by his attire. She didn't answer his question right away. Rather she made a mock notice of her white undershirt sleeves, giving him a "what? You mean these?" look. His pout made her laugh. She supposed it was a little unfair. Her vest was more proper-like, in a way. It was similar to what she and Ezio had worn in Florence, and she wore a proper belt now rather than a sash.

"Well, the boys' gear tends to be a little too loose in all the wrong places, so Dea made mine extra special. That, and she didn't want me to look completely like a man," she mused wryly before motioning towards the _Villa_'s exit. "Alright, come on. It's time to start training. If you ever want to do the jogging beforehand with me, let me know. It requires waking up much earlier, though."

"Please do… although perhaps after I have become more accustomed to things," the young man mused in return as he followed her out the main doors into the early morning of _Monteriggioni. _The sun was barely above the city walls, though the sky was bright. The January air was crisp and cool; their training would bring much needed warmth until the sun could do it for them. Already men were out and about, stretching or having mock-bouts. Mario was never there right away—he tended to the city's watch and checked reports—but that was where Ottavio came in. He, too, was stretching, but keeping an eye on things as well. As such, he spotted them and happily clapped Ezio on the back.

"Ah—the nephew finally joins us! Mario has been eager to test your skills, but worry not—we'll start with the basics for you," the older man grinned contagiously. He turned his cheerful gaze to the redhead. "I may just have him start with you, little one."

She snorted, folded her arms, "Are you insinuating I'm a novice? Put him with Filippo or Carlo. They've only had a few weeks—they're perfect for him."

"You really think you can best me, don't you?" Ezio laughed, folding his arms right back, but Catherine ignored in favor of Ottavio, whose grin only widened.

"Not my orders, little one. Mario wants you to work with him."

"Mario said so?" she frowned, puzzled, but the Captain just nodded. She sighed with exasperation. "Fine, fine… but does he mean for sparring or the actually training or…?"

"The exercises he'll probably do with the more experienced as you do at first to learn faster, but Mario wants you to spar with him—he says it will do you both good. And don't bother asking me why. I just follow orders. Also, you both are the last for training and sparring. Again, his orders. He didn't say why… but I have an idea, which means you'll figure it out soon enough. You're clever like that, eh?"

"Well, more clever than most the boys here," the redhead smirked, glancing over to the other men and then at Ezio, whom gave her a huff in return.

"I imagine he wishes to discuss things as we train," the young man rumbled, but Ottavio only shrugged.

"Could be. Anyways, begin stretching and warm yourselves up. Catherine, you can show him the moves while I start the first groups."

"Yeah, yeah. Go on then, _Captain_," she rolled her eyes with a playful grin, which the man happily returned before he began to shout pairs of names and usher them into the ring. Ten men obeyed, vaulting over the rails of the training ring, and began to exchange jabs and dodges, working to improve themselves. Catherine, meanwhile, brought Ezio a bit further off to give them some room. There, she pulled her arm across her chest, locking it by bringing her other under and upwards, stretching the limb.

"Morning training is fairly boring—you're either sitting around stretching, cleaning your gear, or you're in the ring practicing. We would train outside it, but apparently too many men kept getting hurt on the stone and one almost apparently died when he hit his head too hard, so they stick to the dirt instead. Not really that much better, but… eh. Anyways, just go ahead and get stretched out—y'know, loose your limbs up like I'm doing, and then I can explain what everyone is doing."

"Where is Mario? Shouldn't he be doing what his… you called him 'Captain'?"

"Ottavio. He's Mario's Captain. Second-in-Command. Babysitter. Whatever nickname we make up. He's a nice guy, just don't piss him off. He's the Captain for a reason. And Mario isn't here because he goes to check on the nightly reports from the guard and see to some of the citizens. He makes sure they have what they need for the day. So, yeah. Ottavio handles the basic training and keeps us all in line and then Mario oversees the sparring so he can beat our mistakes out of us. It works out pretty well. You'll get used to it soon enough."

"You make it sounds so easy," Ezio chuckled.

Catherine shrugged, "It's not, but I've been at it six months. It's mostly just routine now. And hey—keep stretching. It's cold out, so you really need to stay loose and warm, and don't even make some lousy comment about that sentence."

"Well, I wasn't before, but now that you've mentioned it," the young man hummed, and chuckled when she smacked him lightly. He motioned to the men in the ring a moment later. "What are they doing right now?"

"Just basic punches and dodges. It's mostly to get warmed up, too, but also a chance to test out changes or make sure we have moves down. It's nothing fancy, and you won't be using a sword just yet, either. Novices only do hand-to-hand. Since you have experience, you should get to a sword in a month or so."

"A month!?"

She raised a brow, "Well, yeah. Mario has a lot to teach, and it's not as easy to get good at it as you think. Although… you fought so you have more experience than most novices he would pick up—hell, most are a year or two younger than you. Or, well, that's what I've been told about how it _used _to be. Lately the new recruits have been more experienced men from other areas or something like that. But they used to take younger men—boys, basically. Ottavio was maybe fifteen when Mario found him. Makes it easier to mold them into proper fighters."

"It is… rather… methodical," Ezio mused, and Catherine laughed.

"What? You thought he just got a bunch of random men together and told them to fight?"

He flushed a little, "Er… well… ah… No...?"

She snickered, "It's fine. Most people think that unless you live with them like here. You'll see. Most all of them are good guys, too. A few are… unsavory."

"I take it you know these unsavory characters personally?"

"One, anyways. He hates my guts. Essentially, I'm glad I sleep in the _Villa_ and not the barracks. Bastard would probably strangle me," the redhead snorted. When she heard no reply from Ezio she turned and found himself aghast. She quickly waved her hands. "Oh—no, no, no—I wasn't serious. He wouldn't _literally_ do that…. I think. At most he'd probably hit me or something."

"That is hardly better! What man would hit a woman!?" he exclaimed, scowling as he threw his hands up.

"Well, I'm kind of not considered a woman in the ring?" she explained with a shrug, but he gave her a look. "Okay, okay, yeah, they know I'm a girl. I got flirted with before and sometimes they still give me looks, but they know I'm not interested in them and I'm one of them. They don't bother me or anything, so calm down. Ottavio and Mario wouldn't allow it, anyways. _I_ wouldn't allow it. Or, well, I guess unless I liked any of them like that, but I don't, so there we go."

He still scowled, "I do not like how this sounds…"

She sighed with exasperation, "Ezio, I'm fine. I've been doing this for six months, and I have at least five guys who have my back, or they better or I'm kicking their asses. Besides, I'm the one who's supposed to worry here, remember?"

"Catherine, I told you not to coddle me," he sighed this time, his scowl turning into a frown. She frowned right back as she reached over and grasped his shoulder.

"Ezio, it's not _coddling_ to worry about a friend who just lost their entire family and had to do something he never thought he would and find out a crazy family secret… or that, y'know, the friend worrying about them was in on it. I'm just… I want to make sure you'll be okay. It's one thing to say it—anyone can say they're alright, but it doesn't mean they are. You don't have to force yourself."

Ezio breathed in deeply, and she knew he wanted to reply harshly—no doubt he wanted to be stubborn and affirm he was fine. She knew he wasn't; not completely. Only a few people could be okay, and generally they were the cruelest and most callous. He was nowhere near one of those people. As such, he let out that deep breath of air and looked to her.

"I am…. I _will_ be alright. I need this, Catherine. I need to keep myself busy—to find out my father's secrets; why he had to keep it from me. To… to really believe it, I suppose. Sometimes I think I am dreaming… I need to know—to _really_ know I am awake. Mario intends to tell me of my heritage as I train, and I need this to protect my mother and sister. So, please, let me do this."

She watched him for a few moments before sighing herself and squeezed his shoulder, "Okay… okay, you can do this. I won't stop you… but… don't push yourself so hard that you break. If you need to stop to breathe, then do it. And don't be too stubborn or prideful or scared to ask for help. I told you last night I have your back, and I mean it. If you need help, just ask."

"I'll… I will try. I cannot guarantee I won't be stubborn," he chuckled, and she returned it with a smile.

"Mario will beat that out of you soon enough."

"You're starting to make me regret this will all the talk of how difficult it is."

"Well, it's not for the meek, that's for sure."

He raised his brow, "I am hardly meek. And surely if _you_ can do it, so can I."

She laughed, "You keep telling yourself that, Ezio—whatever it takes to make you feel bigger."

"'Bigger'?" he frowned, puzzled, but then scowled. "Hey—!"

"Oi! Catherine, Ezio—get in! You're up!" Ottavio shouted before the young man could retort. The redhead smirked, pushing off the wall to hop over the rail. Ezio huffed briefly before joining her and looked to the other men with them. None paid them attention; too busy going about their exercises. He turned his gaze to Catherine, who had her fists up, ready to go. She gave him an expectant look in return.

"So we are just… punching?" he asked as he got into stance as well, legs spread and arms up. Catherine took note of how it was off in places and the openings they made. Before she could go after him, though, Ottavio came over.

"Mostly just going through the motions. You don't actually connect them. It's a chance for you to work on your attacks and for your partner their dodges. Go slow until you're used to it. And Catherine… go easy on him," the man winked, much to the redhead's amusement, and the young man's annoyance.

"Don't worry—I won't hurt you too bad," she winked, too, which got an eye roll from Ezio.

"And you call me arrogant."

She smirked, "Because you are. Now, come on—punch at me, but not to hit. Just to do the move and work on it. Focus on perfecting the punch; make sure you do it right and strike the right area. Likewise, I'll dodge and then punch at you. Got it?"

Ezio nodded, and they began.

The particular exercise lasted for about twenty minutes at most. It was generally used to warm the men up, but for the young man it did well to see how he fought. She noted it hadn't changed much from when in the city, but she could see it in a new light. He was a decent fighter for sure—he would be able to hold his own against another—but he was lacking compared to the others. Catherine would know; she had once fought worse than he had, but now she saw all the mistakes and openings and could see which way he would go. As such, she dodged most every blow, much to Ezio's frustration. He, likewise, dodged many of her strikes, but not all, and she didn't fail to notice he was surprised at her new prowess. He kept it at bay, though, and focused on the work, which she saw _did_ help. The morose demeanor that had consumed him yesterday and when they'd woken this morning was nowhere to be seen. For that, Catherine was glad, but she still worried. Just because you didn't seem like it, didn't mean you were okay; and not even having something to focus on could always help. She knew that all too well.

Thankfully, there was no chance for him to relapse as training continued without much of a break through to their lunch hour. After punch-and-dodge it moved into proper skills, based upon level. The advanced men went first—a way for the less experienced to learn. Catherine normally would have gone in the middle group, but Mario had requested she work specifically with Ezio. She suspected some of the men might find it odd and question things, but they were all too loyal to the man to really care much. At most she would get teased and probably accused of him being a secret lover or something ridiculous. Either way, there were some whispers and jokes made their way when they got into the ring for one on one, working on more proper punching and dodging. Ottavio was more intimately involved, having them pull more complex moves. Ezio caught on quickly, of course, and even enjoyed it, and Catherine couldn't help laughing, either. It was almost like old times, only now she was sparring with Ezio rather than just running around. Briefly, she had felt a flicker of sadness as she recalled how she'd practiced with Federico like this, but pushed it aside in favor of not giving the young man any advantages over her.

They went their round, and again she surprised Ezio with the skills she'd acquired over six months. She was by no means the best fighter, but at the moment she was more refined than her companion, and she took some joy in how it put him off, leaving him open to her attacks. She didn't doubt he might surpass her soon enough, but for now she would enjoy it. He, however, did not appear to share it, and was a bit sour when they were finally ushered from the ring and allowed to rest. He made a point to huff at every jab of her having outdone him, and no amount of "reassurance" from other men about how she'd been at it longer helped. Thankfully, his dour mood only lasted until the lunch break where they all gathered at the Barracks to eat. Even Catherine did, the meal more-so a snack, and it was her favorite time to engage with the other men. Of course, it wasn't all fun and games—not with Emilio and his handful of supporters glaring at her from across the room. She didn't doubt Ezio noticed, but he refrained from saying anything while the other men introduced themselves and welcomed him to their fold. He learned quite a lot about how his Uncle was viewed and how life was here.

Lunch only lasted so long, though, and then it was time for sparring. For this Mario finally returned and spared a few moments to speak with Ezio; inquiring about how his nephew was settling in. When he learned the young man was alright, he simply laughed, clapped his shoulder, and told him to watch and learn, and to not run off as soon as he was done—they would train personally later. With that, the older man began the matches, and Catherine had the fun of explaining how they worked to Ezio and how pairing up was done. It was based upon who could beat who, and who forced the other to work harder. Mario decided it all, and it was always made sure that everyone had a proper person to fight. Then it was up to the men to fight as hard as they could and not hold back except when pausing to hear their commander's corrections. Then they were back at it and no one ever came out unscathed.

"Catherine—you're up," Mario called when a match had ended, and the redhead was pulled from her short explanation with Ezio. She raised a brow, having though she would fight her companion, but pushed it away as she hopped in. "Today you will fight—."

"I volunteer," a gruff voice spoke up, and most everyone looked towards a burly man almost twice her size hopping over the rail. The redhead inwardly groaned. She would have recognized the dark, messy hair, the rugged, scarred features, and the burning hate in those two black eyes anywhere It was Emilio, and she knew he was out to "put her in her place", as he'd been apparently grumbling about for days now. Great.What was worse was that he had volunteered, and Mario allowed it—though generally for a lower rank to fight a higher, not the other way around. However, for her to object and back off would lower her in the eyes of the other men. They would view her a coward even if it was obvious she would lose, and though she knew those who truly had her back wouldn't mind, she didn't need to give others a reason to like Emilio more. She looked to Mario, whom was not happy. He didn't scowl, but she knew.

"Emilio, she is a lower level than you are—hardly worth your time," the commander mused, and though it should have technically been an insult, Catherine knew otherwise. She also knew the mercenary didn't care. He wanted his revenge, and she knew he would have it. She glanced over at Ezio and Ottavio, the two standing close together. Both had a look of concern about them, but she just waved her hand slightly.

"It's fine—I need to fight a stronger opponent to get better," Catherine nodded, and hated how Emilio smirked in that cruel way of his. Her stomach churned uneasily, but she couldn't back down. She'd accepted, and she couldn't look weak. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass to be a mercenary.

Mario let out a breath of air, "Very well. Remember, this is a spar. If you go too far, I will stop the match."

A warning. One she knew Emilio would push to the limit. Briefly, she thought of backing out. She had a chance. Mario hadn't given then the word to go. She could pull out. She didn't have to care what the others thought. She was a woman and a lower rank than Emilio. She was much weaker. Backing out was reasonable. Yet she couldn't, and she knew it.

"Begin!"

Catherine barely had time to roll out of the way as the larger man charged, throwing a bruising punch. She cursed as she leaped up and brought up her arm to block his next blow. It hurt, but she'd hurt worse. Growling, she threw her own punch, which he dodged. He grabbed her sleeve as she went by and threw her to the ground. She kept rolling and pushed up in time to just barely dodge his fist that had been aimed for her face. Unfortunately, she tripped and he lunged. By some miracle, she got her leg up so his gut rammed into her heels. He grunted painfully as she kept the momentum going and essentially kicked him over her head and into the rail. She flipped up and got her arms ready as he got up, rage flaring in his eyes.

If anything, she felt a little proud she was lasting this long. She had thought he would have just tackled or grabbed her and started to beat her face, but he was trying to do something else—something more, she supposed. What, she wasn't sure, and was a little worried now.

"Emilio, you are wasting your movements—take this seriously! A real opponent would have killed you by now! Catherine, you are too slow! You must be quicker in your movements and stronger in your blows! Continue!" Mario shouted, and Catherine wanted to throw her shoe at him. Telling the man who hated her guts to take things seriously was just a _huge_ help. Oh, she knew he had to because it was training, but still—the ass was going to get serious now, which only meant bad things for her.

Emilio circled her now, and she kept her guard up. She tried to find some opening, but he was solid. There was a reason he was considered one of Mario's better fighters, and although he was a son of a bitch, it showed. She knew if he grabbed her again, that would be it. She could get out of some grips, but his would be too much. So she kept away from him as best she could. She hated only dodging—yet even then she barely got away—but making any attacks would bring her too close. Of course, he got her a few times, anyways. Her shoulder throbbed after one hit and her forearm still did from before. He'd kicked her knee, so it hurt, but it was all just pain. Pain was temporary and, if anything, it meant you were alive, which meant you could fight. She only wished that could be a comfort here.

"Catherine, you cannot only dodge—you must attack!" Mario shouted, and she almost snapped back at him. She somehow held her tongue. She had to with Emilio's attacks becoming relentless as he pushed her back towards the rail. She cursed as she ducked and dodged and rolled out of the way, but he was coming harder and faster every time. She knew she couldn't keep it up, and she was right: when she dodged to his right, he brought his arm up and struck her across the face. She yelped as she hit the ground and meant to roll up, but let out a pained sound when she felt a knee and a lot of weight on her lower back. Her arm was then wrenched back painfully and lifted upward. She hissed, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to fight against it, but his grip was strong and he shoved his other arm against her forehead, grinding it in the ground. She could taste blood pooling from her lip into her mouth and spit it out as she struggled. It was hopeless, though, and she couldn't hold back a pained snarl as he lifted her arm hire.

"Emilio, _enough!_" Mario shouted, and by the sound of it, it hadn't been the first time he asked. Of course the bastard shoved her head into the dirt and pulled her arm roughly once more before releasing her limb and getting up. She looked up at him and he was all too happy to smirk down at her, as if he'd put her in her place. She doubt this was the last time he would do so or try to, but she gave him no more satisfaction. She held back a hiss as she pushed up, pain going through the arm he'd been pulling. He hadn't done anything too severe, but the muscle would hurt for the rest of the day. Her lip and cheek would be swollen, too.

"Catherine," her commander spoke up, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "You lasted a good time, but you are still slow in your movement. You cannot remain on the defensive, either. We will work on it tomorrow. Go rest."

She only nodded, spit out a glob of blood at Emilio's feet beside her, and left as the other man got his critique. She briefly looked at the other men and saw most looked displeased—at Emilio. She thanked God for that, although she knew it wasn't all of them. However, she was glad for what faces she did see, and was especially glad for Ottavio and Ezio looking the same. Although, it was no secret their Captain had no love for the unruly man, and with how the young Auditore was scowling, he did not, either.

"God, Catherine, are you alright?" Ezio asked, reaching up to grasp her chin lightly. While she appreciated the concern, she nudged his hand away and then rubbed the arm her opponent had pulled.

"Will be… hopefully the bastard will leave me alone for a while then. Whooped my ass and all," she grumbled before wincing at a sharp jolt in her arm. Looks like he'd pulled it maybe a little too much.

"Hopefully. But he's gotten blood now. You need to watch your back, Catherine," Ottavio rumbled, and the redhead frowned.

"Well, at least next time I can say 'no'. One fight was enough to show I'm not a complete coward when it comes to him."

"You know that will not sway them all," the Captain rumbled, and she just sighed with a shrug. He sighed, too. "Just be careful. Don't find yourself alone with him."

"She won't," Ezio replied, and both looked to him, surprised. His eyes were ahead—locked onto Emilio as he walked out of the ring—and filled with a rage. Catherine's cheeks warmed as she nudged him.

"Ezio, don't you dare do anything. You'll just get in trouble," she warned, but he just waved his hand at the ring.

"And _that_ does not get him into trouble? Catherine—he _beat_ you! What man beats a woman like that?"

She sighed with exasperation, "Ezio… this is different. You don't understand. These fights are normal."

"How is this _normal_? How can Uncle allow this?"

"Ottavio, can you help here?" she groaned, looking to the older man, whose shoulders sagged.

"Look, kid," he rumbled, receiving a harsh glare from said "kid". "Things work different in _Monteriggioni_. Yeah, Catherine is a woman, but she's also one of _us_. She's no different from me or Matteo, or Piero, or Michelangelo, or even Emilio. She is one of Mario's soldiers, and so we treat her no different. Mostly. Sometimes the others forget outside of this ring, but in training we always remember. And since she is one of us we do not hold back or go easy on her. She will not improve otherwise. We know this. She knows this. _You_ must know this. However… Emilio did go too far. We may not go easy, but we know when it is unfair or too much and he should not have volunteered to fight you. What he did was a personal vendetta, and I do not doubt Mario will reprimand him later."

Ezio scowled, "Why did he allow it here then?"

"Because _I_ did, and because Mario can't make exceptions," Catherine replied this time, and Ottavio nodded with confirmation.

"She speaks the truth. While it is frowned upon, a stronger soldier can fight a weaker. Generally it is at the request of the weaker to prove themselves… but it is allowed and if both agree, then Mario will approve or deny except in special cases. However, in this match, for Mario to have denied it, it would have been favoritism, and he cannot do that. It would cause unrest between the men," the Captain explained, but Ezio was hardly pleased. He did not question further, although his expression said he wished to. Ottavio turned towards him. "I imagine this is very different from your city life, but it is as I old you: things are different here in _Monteriggioni_. I admit, a woman in our midst is unheard of, but the little one here and Mario both have their reasons, and we trust in his judgement, so we accept it. You would do well to do the same, else you will only make it difficult for yourself _and_ her."

Ezio frowned deeply, and Catherine sighed just as such. Just as Ottavio had said, things were different here than noble life in _Firenze_. Even she still sometimes found it difficult to grasp and work with, but six months had given her time to become inured enough. That wasn't to say she was alright with being beaten as she had been by Emilio. No, she hated it, but she was in no position to really do anything about it beyond working with the system they had. That, and trust in the other men to have her back like Ottavio did. She knew Ezio had hers, but she also knew he was likely to make things difficult rather than better if he helped. Mario would do what he could, but as the Captain had said, he couldn't show favoritism. Not openly, anyways. They all knew he had a softer spot for her with all the time they spent speaking of other things, but in training he never showed it—not even in the slightest. It was better he didn't, even if she wished he would.

"Ezio," she called out, touching his arm, and he finally turned to her. He was still upset, but he was more open to listening. She hoped so, anyways. "Just leave it be. Let Mario and myself handle it. I can take a little beating. Just focus on getting stronger, alright? You have two people counting on you."

"You know I can't—not after that. I will not just sit by and let some bastard beat you over some personal vendetta against you. What have you even done to him?" he hissed.

Her shoulders slumped, "Ezio, not now. This is not the time. Just promise me you won't go after him and don't piss him off. Okay? Ezio, promise me you won't."

He stared for a long while before he huffed, "I promise I will not do anything—not today, anyways."

"_Ezio_."

"Catherine, I won't allow someone to just attack you like that regardless of whatever damned thing you have going on here! It is not right."

"It's not about being right or wrong, Ezio!" she growled. "And I won't be fighting him anymore, and he won't try anything outside the ring. Mario wouldn't let it stand if he did, and while Emilio is a jackass, he's not stupid. Just let it be. I'm _fine_."

"Stop pressing the issue, boy, else you will only bring more harm to the one you want to protect," Ottavio snapped suddenly, and though Ezio glared, he held his tongue. Like Mario, the Captain had a certain tone, and when he used it you did not talk back to him. Catherine hoped it was also in part because her friend understood _that_. She appreciated his concern, really, she did. Hell, it was making her flush a little because she couldn't recall anyone ever being so protective, but it was also a little strange. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it came off as odd to her.

It seemed both of them had something to talk about later.

"Ezio, we can talk later, okay? Training isn't the place. All personal stuff has to happen outside of it—alright?" Catherine spoke softly, gripping his sleeve. He glanced over before he inhaled deeply and nodded.

"Alright."

And that was that.

Ezio did not bring the subject up again, but Catherine did not fail to notice how the young man's gaze rarely, if ever, was not cast in the direction of Emilio if it was not directly on the man. It was always scathing and full of disdain, and had they not convinced him otherwise, the redhead knew the young man would have happily gone over and started a fight with Emilio. However, he contained his rage to himself, and even managed to not let loose on his fellow sparring partner. If anything, it made him far more focused and fluid in his motions. He bested his opponent with an uncanny ease and then he was by her side again to wait for the others to finish. Catherine honestly wasn't sure what to make of it. Again, she found his behavior odd, and only hoped when they talked later she might find it out. For now, though, they had to wait through the final matches.

The sky was getting dark as the last of the men finished, and most had already gone off to eat. Catherine and Ezio remained, although the redhead had a feeling her companion did so more to complain to his Uncle than for actually learning. Either way, he needed to stay—Ottavio had mentioned his Uncle wanted to train them personally once the others were done, so here they were. It had made a long wait, but soon they were alone with Mario and Ottavio, and the older man came over to them.

"You fought well, Nephew. Your focus was good, although your movements are still somewhat unrefined, and you need work on your moving," he began, grinning a little. He chuckled at the young man's pout. "Oh, you can swing a sword to be sure, but offense alone will not carry a battle. You must survive long enough to strike. Thus, tonight I will teach you how to dodge."

"Before that Uncle, I demand you—," Ezio began, but Catherine was quick to grab his arm and squeeze hard. He looked back at her where he found a glare. He opened his mouth to object, but her grip tightened. He frowned back, but sighed, relenting. He looked back to his Uncle, who had a raised, expectant brow. "It is nothing. I am ready to begin."

"…Very well," Mario mused, looking between the three of them. Ottavio merely glanced at the two younger fighters before he slipped into the ring, unsheathing his sword. Ezio looked to his Uncle with a bit of alarm, but was merely ushered in. Catherine released him to allow him to do so, and the young man stood a good few steps from Ottavio as he wondered how it would work. His Uncle kept outside the ring. "To dodge, you simple need watch your opponent and move before they hit you. Of course, it is never so easy, so watch and be ready. Keep an eye on where your opponent moves and how they strike and use their line of sight to know when to dodge. Ottavio will attack you with his sword this round. Catherine will use her fists in another. Dodge both. Begin."

Catherine could see Ezio frown, no doubt asking how it could be so simple, yet there it was. There was no room to complain, as the Captain started moving. The young man did as was asked and began to move or did his best to. Ottavio was a damned good fighter, and more than once the young man found the sword just inches from impaling him—not that the older man would allow it to. Still, the point was made, and after what felt an eternity of dodging, Ezio was left panting and with sweat forming along his brow. It was then that Mario called for a halt.

"You would have been dead many times over, but it is a start. You will improve with time. Ottavio, go see to the men. Catherine, it is your turn," the older man called, and the redhead quickly switched places with the darker haired man, whom continued off to the Barracks. She was still sore from earlier, but it wasn't enough that it would hamper her. Before they began, though, Ezio wiped the sweat with his sleeve and looked to his Uncle, biting his lip with hesitation. He gathered his courage, though, and stepped towards Mario.

"Uncle, you… you said my father was more than just a banker?" he asked tentatively, and even Catherine looked to the older man to see what he might say. She wasn't surprised the young man was doubtful still. In fact, she had expected it, and now he could learn the truth and start believing.

"No use dancing around it, I suppose," his uncle hummed, folding his arms behind his back. "Your father was an Assassin, Ezio."

He frowned, but his incredulity was weak as he responded, "I told you before: my father was a paper pusher…"

"No. He was born and bred to kill."

"I… I find this difficult to believe—still," the young man frowned, shaking his head, and Mario motioned at him.

"What of the list you carry? Do you think it is merely a catalogue of debts?" he began, and Ezio's frown deepened. "It holds the names of those responsible for your father's murder."

The young Auditore became quiet as he mulled on it. Catherine knew that would hardly be enough, even if he didn't think it was true now. No, he still needed time, and she just hoped Mario would continue to be patient with him.

"I… I am… not sure… of things—not yet."

Mario spared him a small smile, "You will in time. For now… Catherine, act as though you are sparring. Go at him with all you have and do not hold back. Ezio, she has speed on you. Dodging is imperative here. Do not get hit."

"Are you ready?" the redhead asked as she brought up her hands, balled into fists. The movement made her shoulder throbbed, but she refused to show it. Ezio paused briefly, collecting himself, but then got into his stance and nodded. Catherine nodded back, and began.

**-O-**

Catherine licked her lip, feeling the swollen flesh. It wasn't all that bad, and she liked to think it was because her body was becoming used to all of it, that she was just stronger in general, and she may have gotten faster in healing. It certainly made her feel better about herself, although the pain would still remain—just not as long as it used to. The ache in her arm had thankfully gone, but she had definitely refrained from free-running where climbing was needed. Just running on the roofs was fine, and she had been happy to do that after training, but climb? No, she let her arm rest this night since her mind would get none of it. She wasn't put off by the notion, really; she knew Ezio wanted answers, and he'd been patient since the end of training and their dinner. He'd even been patient as she went for a final run to cool down, or at least try to cool him down, but even while sitting she could feel how antsy he was. He might have looked to be in repose, but she caught his glances; his twitching fingers and lip. It would not be long now before he asked, and so she took up lying on her back to look at the sky on the _Villa_'s roof, waiting on him.

It was longer than she thought before he finally shifted; sitting up and setting his arms on his knees. She looked over at him, but his eyes were set ahead still.

"Is what Mario said true? I know you said my father was… but…."

She sat up, having not expected that question, "Uh… yeah. It's true. Giovanni was an assassin."

"And the list?"

"I'm not sure. I figure they're Templars if they killed your father."

"Templars?" he frowned, looking at her now.

"The enemy of Assassins. Mario can tell you the most about them, although there are documents in the _Villa_—in the books."

"I see…," he rumbled, eyes turning back to the city. He sighed after a few moments. "I suppose I can deny it no longer… and yet…"

"Give it time. Get used to the idea—learn about the history that you can. You have time while you train, so don't worry about figuring it out all right away, and don't be afraid to ask Mario questions. He wants to share it with you," she smiled, but it didn't really ease his worries.

"I… I guess I can do that," he rumbled, and she knew he was hardly done.

"It's a start… not what else do you want to ask—I can tell you still have something more?"

"Of course I do," he growled slightly, surprising her. "Earlier—with that bastard! Catherine… how could—how could they just let him hurt you like that!? I know you made your explanations, but it makes no sense! No man should ever hit a woman!"

"Ezioo," she groaned, rubbing her brow. "Look… it's like we said: it's _different_ here. And… okay, look, I appreciate the concern. Really, I do, but I _asked_ for this. I asked Mario to let me train and I accepted all the consequences of it. I can handle this, Ezio. Emilio's an asshole, but I can handle it."

"You _accepted_ being beaten like that?!"

She grimaced, "Well, not like _that_, but I accepted that they wouldn't go easy on me, and I told you: I want this. I'm going this to get stronger, and sometimes it means getting hurt. I'm okay with this, Ezio—why can't you just accept it, too?"

"Because it's _wrong_! I cannot just sit by and watch my friend be beaten!"

Catherine sighed. This was getting nowhere. As much as she appreciated his concern—really, she did—it could become a problem if he kept babying her. She hated saying what she was about to, but she needed to get through to him.

"Ezio… look, I consider you my friend, too, but… I mean… to be honest… we've only known each other about a month. I may be a girl, but a month is hardly long enough for you to be so protective," she replied, and felt her gut twist at every word. She could see the pain in his eyes as the words hit home, and her gut wrenched tightly all the more. The young man ran a hand through his hair as he tried to work through things, not looking at her for a while. He briefly glanced at her before sighing, pulling his knees closer, and letting his head fall forward.

"I know…but…. I… I am selfish, Catherine. I know it was only a month, but… you… I… I just… I cannot stand seeing you hurt because… that month you were with us… when I am around you I think of it—of the times there. The good times. It helps me forget; it allows me to be happy. So I cannot stand to see it hurt. It is selfish. I know it is… but I wish to hold on to it. I want to hold on to what little I have left from there."

Catherine understood then, and was ashamed she hadn't seen it. Of course he would want to protect her. Not only was he just that kind of person, but they had made their memories in _Firenze_. All they had between them had been formed in that city; of course he would seek to hold onto it. She was just too naïve or blind or worse to notice, and it burned her. She could barely speak, and any apology tired her tongue into an impossible knot. In the end, all she could think to do was lean over and set her head on his shoulder. He lifted his head to look over at her, although she kept her gaze ahead.

"I didn't…. I don't mean to take that away from you. And… and I know it's hard. It's unfair for me to treat you otherwise, even if you ask me to do so… I get it. I do. I admit… I'm kind of the same. Having you around makes me think of back then, and it was your pendant that helped me through a lot to get to this point," she began, reaching into her shirt to pull the pendant out. "I wish we could have it back. I would _you_ could have it back—that I… that things could have been different… but things are how they are, and we can't forget or change that."

"…I know… I know… but… but can I not… pretend? For a little while?" he asked softly, voice weak.

She took in a shaky breath, "You know you can't. None of us can… not if we want to get stronger. And… and that means we'll get hurt. I'll be hit and beaten by the men here during training, but I have to if I want to get stronger. You will, too."

"But why do _you_ need to be stronger? Why are you a part of this? Why must you put yourself through such torture?"

"I… I just… I have to be _stronger_. I'm too weak. I…" she murmured, loathing how she had to keep from saying from more. She had promised Mario, though, and it was better this way. Ezio couldn't know. He might be afraid. He might hate her. She couldn't bear him hating her.

"Catherine… I don't understand," he frowned as she lifted her head from his shoulder and stared ahead. He watched her for a few moments before he spoke again. "What are you not telling me?"

She grimaced, "I can't… I can't tell you. Ezio… I don't want to lie to you… but I can't tell you."

"Why not? If you want me to understand and accept what that man has done then you need to tell me," he pushed, but Catherine could only sigh.

"I _can't_. Ezio, please—I _want_ to. I do, but I can't. Just… Just please… I know I don't have a right to ask, but please trust me. What I am doing here… I need to get stronger for reasons I can't say, but know I have to do them. For me. I need this. I can handle it. I know you don't like, but please trust me on this. And—and if I need help… I'll call on you, okay? If I need help I'll call for you. Until then… don't do anything on my behalf with Emilio or the men. It will only make it worse. And if you really want to help then help me get stronger, and help yourself get stronger. Don't go easy on me or yourself. Again, I know I haven't earned it—especially not now—but please trust me."

The young man watched her for a long while; really watched her. She couldn't recall a time when he'd stared so intently at her. It was like he was looking straight through to her center, and she hoped he could see her sincerity. She knew she was being cruel to him. He didn't deserve this—these lies. He had gone through so much, and despite his bravado he was hurting and would be hurting, and she was doing barely anything to help. Now more than ever she couldn't bear to tell him the truth—the _real_ truth. She wanted to apologize and ask for his forgiveness, but silence was all she had as she waited for him.

Relief flooded through her when he sighed and gave her a smile. It was small—almost to where she nearly missed it, but there it was.

"I do not like it, and I wish you could tell me… but I trust you," he replied at last, though gave her a look a moment later. "But if this Emilio tries that attempt again, he will find you have an Auditore at your back and that he will need to sleep with an eye open."

Catherine laughed, "I hope you can back that up—Emilio's one of the best fighters, which is why he hates me for beating him."

"Wait—if he is the best how did you beat him?"

"I, ah… cheated. Kind of. I mean, it's fair game, but I kind of kicked him in the balls? On accident, I swear!" she laughed some more, and Ezio joined her.

"You would do that!" he snickered, and she insisted it was an accident again. He shook his head, "'Accident', eh? Ah, but he hates you because you _cheated_ in a fight against him?"

"Only kind of cheating, but yeah. He's the best fighter, and the most prideful. He actually tried to attack me after because he was so mad and the others had laughed and made fun of him, but Ottavio was there to stop him, and Mario sent him to _Toscana_ to cool off. The other men were thankfully okay with it—most, anyways—since he attacked me outside the ring out of vengeance, which you don't do. Emilio just… didn't forget or cool off although he gone for about three months."

Ezio frowned again, "This man sounds dangerous. Why does Uncle keep him around when he has made it clear he means to bring you harm?"

"Because he's a damn good fighter… he just has a bad temper, but Mario _needs_ men. If he lets someone go, it's for good reason. And today Emilio stayed within the bounds of our 'social' thing or whatever, so it wasn't enough to be… y'know, kicked out. If he tries outside of the ring, though…"

"Catherine, you should not speak so lightly of this…"

"I know, I know… but it's not exactly easy to get caught alone here with the city pretty small, and I rarely go anywhere where he could get me alone… and hey—I have you to watch my back now, right?"

He chuckled, "Yes, you do, but still—be careful. I do not like seeing you hurt."

"So you said… but, Ezio, worry about yourself, too. You got a rough road ahead… and once you start learning about your heritage, it probably won't get easier… but I got your back, too. And like I said before; I'm happy to help you have fun, and I'll do everything I can to make you stronger faster. So let's be sure to help each other out, yeah?"

"You are a strange woman—you know this, yes?" the young man hummed with a grin, and she just grinned back as she shrugged.

"Hey, I wouldn't be nearly as fun or amazing if I wasn't, right?"

"No, I suppose not… and, yes, we will help each other out. It will take me some time to get used to things—my father; you being here; the way of things… but I will do what I can. And I will trust you."

"Don't worry—you'll figure it out. You're an Auditore, after all, and the most stubborn of them… well, I think Claudia may actually have you beat, but you know what I mean," the redhead laughed, and he joined her.

"You are right. I will make it through… but if I doubt… I may need your own stubbornness to knock some sense into me."

"Oh, Ezio, please. I am going to be knocking sense into you every day you're here during training—just like today."

"I was going easy on you!" the young man huffed, though he flushed with a hint of embarrassment. Catherine had somewhat trounced him today, and she knew she would for quite a few more before he got the hang of it. She would, of course, enjoy every movement of it.

"Uh-huh. I bet. I think it's time to knock some more sense into you, though. C'mere—!"

Catherine lunged to smack him, but Ezio leaped up and raced off across the rooftops with a laugh. The redhead was after him at once, laughing right along with him, and she knew things would only get better from here.

* * *

**17 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's chapter 17! Hope you guys enjoyed it and my expansion on mercenary life! There's still plenty to be found, and you can bet your bums Emilio is not going away so easily. Oooh no, I have some plans for him, and Catherine will not like them, ha ha. Ezio, meanwhile, it still coming to terms with things and will struggle some to get used to everything, but he'll adapt well enough. Adaptation is in his blood being an Assassin...that, and Catherine is there to help :)_

_Anyways, sooo yeah. You guys got a look into mercenary life and it is NOT fun and games, let me tell you. Now, the Catzio stuff after? Most definitely fun and games, ha ha. _

_Oh! So some of you will recognize dialogue from the training mission in Monterigionni (like the second mission you get). This dialogue occurs over a 1.5-ish time skip, so it won't all happen at one. You'll see as you go on :) But yeah, so more in-game dialogue! But now we're getting into that time skip, which I will be going through. As such, except weeks to months time skips as we work through it. Just keep an eye on the dates so you don't get lost, haha. I'll be sure to notify about big time skips, too._


	19. This Too Shall Pass

**TMWolf: **_Awww, yeah another chapter! Unfortunately, it may be the last on-time chapter for the next month... my class is kinda demanding at the moment, but I may finally even it out. I'll have to see how I do on my first test on Monday. For now... word of warning: there may not be an update next week. I'll see how it goes IP Until then-chapter 18, guys!_

_As always, how I write the characters is based off my own interpretation of canon and what not._

_So this chapter's song is from OK Go's - This Too Shall Pass! Kinda fits in lyrics. Kinda. You'll see xD_

_If you see any errors please let me know! I always appreciate feedback or questions or what not :)_

_P.S. **THERE IS A LITTLE OVER A MONTH TIME SKIP.** Thus, the date/location scheme comes in handy here. I always try to reference time skips in the chapter, but take note of the date/local before hand to know if a good chunk of time has gone by :)_

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**18 **–_ This Too Shall Pass_

* * *

**February 10, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine thrust forward with her blade, forcing Ezio to quickly dodge to the side, although not easily; he grimaced as the dull weapon nearly hit him. He danced away, and she came after him. She swung, slashed, and struck out with the weapon, going for his middle, chest, legs, or wherever she could as they moved about the ring. It was practically routine now with how she'd used quite a few of her tricks up, which her opponent knew well by now much to her annoyance. However, there were still some she could use on him.

The young man, of course, was smirking at this point. Sure, she'd almost given him a few more bruises, but he's done this dance with her so much it was more of a game to him. To be honest, it irked her he felt that way, but in this moment it was an advantage: he was being arrogant. With her lack of strength, that was her greatest tool against her opponents, and she was all too happy to use it. As such, she only paused to circle him a little—get that arrogance a little higher—and then charged forward. He braced to dodge, and she made as if to strike downward, so he shifted to the right. To his surprise, though, she thrust the blade into the ground and used it as a support to change direction and slam her leg into his side. He let out a pained grunt as he was thrown to the ground by the force—and surprise of it, which showed ion his face when she reclaimed her blade and aimed it at him.

"You couldn't let me have this, could you?" he grumbled, giving her a look as he lay on the stomach.

Catherine smirked, "Nope."

Beyond them came a laugh, and the redhead finally sheathed her blade and looked to Mario while Ezio pushed himself up and brushed off his clothes. His Uncle was quite pleased as was Ottavio, whom shared in the laughter.

"Well done, Nephew. No shame in losing—she may not be as strong, but Catherine is a crafty one," he mused.

"That's for sure," the young man grumbled, which only made Catherine's smirk widen.

"Oh, don't be a sore loser. Besides, Mario taught me that move. You can learn it, too, although you'd probably need a long weapon."

"And he will—in time. For now we will finally have you move on to learning how to properly use your fists and a sword at the same time," the commander hummed happily. "Tomorrow, of course. For now, you have earned a good meal and rest. Well done, both of you. Ottavio, see to the men tonight. I must see to the city's defenses."

"Of course, sir," the Captain nodded and then to Catherine and Ezio as well before he headed off towards the Barracks. Mario, likewise, left, but he made towards the city. Once gone, the redhead freed her training sword from her belt and set it against the rail. That done, she turned to Ezio, whom was rubbing his side.

Catherine raised a brow, "I did _not_ kick you that hard you big baby."

"I don't know—I may suddenly fall over and pass on," he mused playfully. She just rolled her eyes and shoved him away. He grinned and watched her walk off for a few seconds before trotting after and heading up the steps to the _Villa_. Normally, the Ezio should have eaten with the other men, but he was lumped into a special case like her. Mostly it was because their training went on longer, so the mess hall was empty by now, but it was also because Ezio remained in the _Villa_ unlike the rest of the soldiers. No one said anything, but he had a status—if only for his name. It was nowhere near his Uncle's, but there was this sense that he was meant to be there; to sleep there, eat there, bathe there, and so forth. If there were any complaints the men made none properly known, and thus had seen the young man left be for the past month, which was good. He'd actually made a few friendly acquaintances among the men, although enemies, too.

That, unfortunately, had been partially her fault. The trouble was that it was essentially just for Ezio being friends with her. It was a shame. Really, it was. She had hoped grown men wouldn't be so petty, but Emilio had fostered loyalty in a few mercenaries that was only outmatched by their loyalty to Mario, and he _hated_ her. The man _had_ behaved the last month and done no more than another match where he'd beaten her a little too soundly—and roughly—or made some cruel remarks, but that was it. Sometimes his men made it hard on her, and on Ezio if they felt brave enough—he was Mario's' nephew, after all—but it wasn't all bad. At most an annoyance. Honestly, she was just glad her friend had behaved, too. She thought he would eventually try and attack Emilio, but thus far there had been no trouble. She just hoped the son of a bitch would finally calm down now.

Something told her otherwise, but she pushed it aside. There were more important things to worry about, anyways.

"So. Usual run?" she asked as they crested the top and turned to look at the city. The sun was nearly below the wall, so a few glimmers of light were hitting the _Villa_ while the smaller buildings were covered in a darker blanket. Candles and torches were being lit, but they had enough time for a lap around the city.

He smiled a little as he looked to the city, "Ah… tonight… I think I would rather watch it from the _Villa_."

"Sure," she replied at once, hiding her concern. Was it another relapse, she wondered? He only ever really deviated from their routine for that. It wasn't too surprising, she supposed. It had only been a little over a month since the death of his father and brothers—any normal person might be devastated for many more months if they hadn't already fallen apart. Ezio had somehow managed to carry on, and the two greatest reasons were waiting in the _Villa_. One of said reasons had been doing well, too, although Claudia did so by hiding her sadness behind her haughty demeanor. To each their own, Catherine supposed, and she lamented that only Maria had been unable to find strength beyond her prayers, but she wasn't sure that was really strength at all. She could only hope the once vibrant woman would return one day.

Catherine could only let the thoughts settle to the side as they reached the _Villa_ wall and climbed up. A few more boards had been moved and the gardens out front were getting some life back, with which Ezio had helped more than she thought he might. She figured it was another way for him to not focus on his sorrow or at least help him come to terms with it. Regardless, the _Villa_ had improved, even if only a little, and they'd even patched up some of the roof tiles where they sat. As usual she was closest to the tower and he was on the outside, just sitting with their knees up; watching the city settle down for the night. Shops were closig down, and soon the gates to the city would, too. It would be quiet in the dark with brothel still closed, but it wasn't so bad.

Catherine didn't look much to the city this night, though. Her focus rested on Ezio, who looked at upon the buildings with a distinct sense of longing. She had a feeling he was really looking out beyond the walls and the land to his home. He was technically just a boy, after all; and if a grown man could not move on easily, then he would not be expected to.

"Thinking about them?" she asked softly after some time, and he let out a deep sigh.

"I find I cannot stop doing so," he smiled back, but it was weak and soon turned into a frown. "Every night I see their faces on the gallows. I try to think of happier times, but it is impossible, or it seems so. I can see their horror and father's rage and… and disappointment."

"Ezio, you know he would never be disappointed in you. He was proud of you."

The young man ran a hand through his hair, "I know—I _know_, but… his face… I… I cannot…"

"Then stop thinking about what happened."

"How?" he demanded, throwing his arm out. "How can I forget? How can you ask me to?"

She sighed softly, shaking her head, "I'm not asking that. You don't forget Ezio. You never forget what happened. You just remember the better times. You… do you remember what 'Rico told me to do when I was leaving? He said to remember my time there so y'all wouldn't be far away, and he was right. Whenever I got lonely I just took out the pendant and thought of the fun we had, and it made it better. You just gotta do the same. Think of all the good you had and how proud your Dad was. Federico and Petruccio, too. They were proud, too. They all loved you."

"I… I should do that… I know… it's just…"

"Here," Catherine began, seeing him struggle. She shifted some so she was facing him more, one leg tucking under the other, and nudged his arm gently. "Do it like this… you haven't talked a whole lot about your life in _Firenze_. I know a little, but I actually never learned a lot of like your younger years and what you all did before I came… so… tell me about it. Tell me something fun you did with your brothers and father. Anything. Anything at all. And take your time. Decide what you want… and just start talking. I'm just here to listen and probably laugh and make some witty remark."

_That_ managed to get a chuckle from the young man and he looked to her for a long while before he nodded with another sigh. He set his arm on his knee as he stared back out at the city. He pressed his mouth into his hand, breathing slowly and carefully; searching silently for some memory. It took a few minutes, but he finally suddenly smiled and laughed lightly.

"Okay, I do have one that is pretty good. It happened when I was younger—perhaps fourteen. Cusp of manhood and Federico was teaching me to climb. Father was too busy, so my brother was taking up the task and he brought me to the _Duomo_. I admit, I was a little nervous—yes. I was once quite nervous about climbing, you can stop smirking now," Ezio snickered, but she only changed her expression to a grin. "Anyways, he brought me to it and told me to climb. That was it—just: 'Climb'. I thought he was crazy, but I started and I reached the top. I was quite proud of myself and so was Federico… and then the ass went and pushed me off."

"Wait—_what_?!" Catherine burst out laughing. "He pushed you off?! How did you not die!?"

"He had not failed to notice a haystack below, so I landed safely, but I was frightened for a little while. I refused to climb with him or be near him when on rooftops. Of course, I got him back not long after. You know the scar on his nose?" he went on, and she nodded. "So… as repayment for pushing me off the roof… I may have found a stray, wet cat that was none too happy. I may have agitated it a bit more, too, and possibly threw it under the covers of his bed and shut the door. Needless to say, the house was filled with his shouting, I got a lashing, he got a new scar, and I was never pushed off a building ever again… until you came, of course."

The redhead kept giggling, "To be fair, you deserved that time I did. You were _insufferable_!"

"I was just trying to be charming! You were playing hard to get so I naturally chased you."

"What—I was _not_ playing hard to get! I was playing I don't want anything at all!" she scoffed, slapping his chest with the back of her hand and he laughed in return.

"Oh, yes, I forgot—ever the denier of men. I hear you have refused all them here as well. I am starting to think you really are a shrew."

"Excuse me if I don't fall for every pretty word sent my way and want more than a muscled brute or a little boy for my choice of consort," she snorted right back, and his grin grew wider.

"Ever impossible to obtain. You will be an old crone before you marry."

"Pfft. I've had a few men try and court me here, thank-you very much. I'm bound to have others. One will eventually charm me properly—not use such terrible tactics like you."

He feigned hurt, "Ah, but my terrible tactics won me a lovely lady!"

"Oh, yes… that, ah… Cristina, was it? I almost think she's a story you made up," the redhead mused, to which Ezio pouted.

"She was very much so real! Cristina was—she was…," he began, but paused, and she saw the hurt come over his features.

"Oh, geez, I didn't… Ezio, you don't—."

He waved his hand, "No… no it will be good to talk about it. I have tried not to, but it only hurts to do so. She… she was a little like you—she had quick wit. I nearly floundered my first attempt. She was not impressed at my blunder, though she found me amusing. Federico said her smile was a good sign—that she would remember me… and so I followed her to try again… it was good I did—Vieri tried to force himself upon her. I beat him, of course, and she gave me a reward. Just a small kiss on the cheek is all… but I continued to see her after. She was beautiful and smart and she had a ferocity to her. It was a shame her father did not like me—he threatened to have my head when he caught me in bed once."

"Sounds like something you would do," Catherine chuckled as he did, although it was soft and low. There was still pain on his face, and she felt a tightness in her chest, too. "How… did you two meet exactly? She doesn't sound the type you would meet just anywhere."

"It was in the market, actually, in the evening," Ezio smiled softly, recalling the memory fondly. "Federico—he was finally teaching me how to court a woman 'proper', since you revealed he hadn't. It took a month or so or pressuring him, though. But, ah, he told me to just talk to her—that I would have an advantage because most would be afraid to talk to her because she was so pretty. Said make it up as I went. Turns out he was right… I suppose I owe you my thanks—he may never have corrected me otherwise."

"You're, uh, welcome. I think?" she hummed, silently trying to stop the odd feeling going through her. She didn't like it—especially for its unknown origin. "So you were together a few months? Did… did you get to say good-bye?"

He gave her a small smile, "Yes—a few months… and yes... She, ah… she helped me give me father and brothers a proper burial—we got them to the river and burned them in boats. I wanted her to come with me, but…"

"You said she couldn't leave her family," she said softly, and he nodded.

"Yes… I think I loved her, and wished she could come, but… it was better she dind't… I think. I do not know, truly. I just… I regret, though. I regret saying good-bye. I wished I could have given her something or bring her with me, but…," Ezio paused to let a deep, deep sigh. "I did the right thing, did I not? Letting her go? Or should I have brought her here? Would that have been selfish?"

Catherine didn't answer right away, trying to find the right words. She couldn't say she really knew the feeling—she'd never been in his situation, but she liked to think she'd seen enough of others. Maybe. Really, she was just hoping she was right.

"I… I think… I think you did the right thing… It may not seem like it now, and it'll hurt for a while, but… well, look at your mother and sister—look at how they're doing. Being on the run isn't an easy life, and there's danger… this Cristina would be in danger, so… if only to keep her safe… then… yes. You did the right thing… and who knows—you might see her again."

"You're probably right. You have already been about many things," Ezio replied softly and then forced a chuckle as he looked to her. "How is it you know so many things?"

She chuckled back, "Well… mostly I just… I try to think about how others react… and how I might react, I guess. Maybe. I could be wrong… I guess in the end you still have to decide for yourself. Follow your heart and all that. Just know everyone regrets everything at some point sometimes. There's always doubts… just have more confidence than doubt when you decide."

Ezio didn't say anything for a while, "You have doubts?"

"…more than I'd like," Catherine replied softly, gaze falling.

"What kind?" he asked, looking to her almost pleadingly. She sighed softly, rubbing her hands slowly as the thought. A sad look crossed her features as she found something for him.

"This," she said, motioning to the city. "I doubt what I'm doing here sometimes. Not always sure what I'm doing. I can usually push it away and do what I need to, but… sometimes… Ah, but even with them I know I can't quit. I've come this far, after all. I just… don't always know where I'm going with it, I guess."

"Why _do_ you do this? You never really told me, but I have seen you train—you go at it with such vigor."

She frowned slightly, rubbing the back of her head, "I mean… I told you I want to get stronger. I need to… and then… urgh, it's hard to say. It's… gotta do with Assassin stuff."

"So that means you cannot tell me?" he inquired, his tone a little harsh. She didn't blame him. She'd been reluctant to speak about the Order since Mario had started to, and he'd gone slowly about it; the older man preferred to have Ezio find it out himself. He'd even ask she refrain from talking much, too, so she wasn't surprised the young man had noticed.

"…Kinda? I mean… some of it's personal, but… yeah. I can't… I can't talk really… about _me_ specifically," she mumbled, guilt flaring through her.

"Why not?"

"It's—there's reasons, okay? Maybe… Maybe I can tell you one day, but not yet. Just… trust me on this, okay?"

Ezio frowned, but he didn't press further. He even nodded and gave her a soft "alright". It wasn't really an acceptance, but he would relent for now. Even more now than ever she wanted to tell him the truth, but even if he did accept his heritage there was no way she could say it—could she? She wasn't sure, and it was frustrating; even more so than training.

"Thank-you," the young man spoke up after a few moments, and Catherine looked over, surprised. He snickered at her expression. "For talking—for this. Even after a month you still do so willingly. It has helped immensely, and yet I only make demands of you."

"Hey—it's what friends do, Ezio. You need help more than I do, anyways. So don't worry about it," Catherine replied with a warm smile. "Besides, you've done some things—like not trying to kill Emilio. That's been nice. Caused a lot less problems."

"Only because Ottavio insisted I didn't as well," he snorted. "Mark my word, though—I will have words and fists for that man when I have learned more. He will regret harming you like that."

"Ezio, he's got _years_ on you. You couldn't beat him in a fight in the ring," the redhead mused, brow raised. It faltered, though, as she watched his expression darken. "Wait… you don't… Don't you dare tell me you want to use your hidden blade or something on him!"

"It has crossed my mind," he snorted plainly.

Catherine grabbed his shoulder, "Don't you_ dare_. You can't just kill someone because they may pick on me. Killing is only a final option or in battle or when the person has done something so heinous there's no better justice—and you know what I mean by that. You know your father wouldn't want that, either."

Ezio scowled, no doubt wanting to argue, but in the end he let out a deep breath, "You're right. Of course you are… I just… I hate men like him. He reminds me of Vieri and Uberto—using his power and strength and guile to harm those I care for."

"Even so, killing Emilio is different—_very_ different from killing Uberto. You can't just choose who lives and who dies, you know. No one can—not even the Assassins, really. Or, well… Okay, yeah, they'll decide someone has to die, but it's not just anybody. And they do it for the good of the world. If you kill him just because he's a bully or mean to your friends, then you're no better than him in the end."

"Tsk," the young man grumbled, running a hand through his hair. Catherine's grip on his arm tightened, though, and looked to her. He waved his hand and nodded. "Alright, alright… yes, I know you are right. He just… bothers me. I do not like him. I will not harm him, though—not unless he gives me good reason."

"_Ezio_."

"I won't _kill_ him," he snorted, and he got a look from the redhead. She released his arm though and shook her head.

"You're terrible, I swear. Well, with any luck he's got his hate out his system. He's left me alone after that second bout, and then he hasn't bothered you, so don't go looking for trouble. Or you will have trouble in the form of my boot up your ass."

"Ah, you are so violent! It makes me wonder how he dared to face you!" Ezio snickered.

"The difference is that I can kick your ass literally now."

He raised a brow, "Oh? Dodging is one thing, but in a proper fight where I can use my tricks I would win."

"Uh-huh. Well, you'll just have to see when we start doing counter attacks tomorrow. Do you even know how to use a sword in every way? And I _don't_ mean the one between your legs."

"Of course I can use a sword—both of them quite well," he smirked, and she shoved him playfully, which got a laugh from him. "You are the one who brought it up!"

"Only because you would have jumped at the chance anyways! You always made it into something sexual back in _Firenze_!" she chuffed as he kept on grinning.

"Only because you would become so flustered. I see I will have to continue my antics—you still react splendidly!"

She jabbed a finger at him, "Don't you dare! Don't even think about it!"

"Oh, you can count on it, little kitty-Cat," he purred, and laughed when she made a face. "You thought I would forget our nickname for you? Oh, no. No, I did not forget and you can expect I will use it."

"No—don't! The men will hear and start using it! 'Little one' is bad enough! I told them to use 'Red', but they refuse!" she exclaimed, moving to cuff his shoulder, but he dodged with another laugh.

"You must stop giving me ideas, kitty-Cat!" he continued on, dodging her other swipe. Despite her apparent fury, it wasn't long before the red-headed young woman was laughing, too. Truthfully, she didn't mind the nickname, and she knew Ezio knew that, too. She did not want the other men to use it, though. She knew she wouldn't be able to live it down.

Catherine let out a half-laugh, half-sigh as she leaned back on her arms to stare at the city for a few moments before looking over at him. He was leaning back as well, although on his elbows with a knee propped up. Most importantly, though, he was smiling—_really_ smiling. That had remained rare even after a month, so it was a grand thing to see it. She only wished he could all the time, but it was too soon. Maybe later. Maybe when he could remember the good more often than the bad. Maybe then the Ezio she knew could be completely back. Whatever the case, she would help as much as she could.

"So," she mused, tilting her knee back and forth, "feeling better?"

"Yes," he chuckled, looking over at her. "You are most clever, or shall I say crafty? You always manage to get me to laugh."

"I just want you to be happy again—be more like yourself."

"Regardless… thank-you—as always. It seems I owe you more and more every day. It is almost unfair."

"Pfft. You don't owe me anything, but if you _insist_," she snickered playfully, to which he rolled his eyes. "Just do good with your training and such. Be a good person, too."

"I… think I can do that. The training _is_ useful… and I admit… I have become… curious about my father's work. Uncle Mario has piqued my interest."

"Then keep asking him questions—do it tomorrow. Think on it tonight, and ask. You can also read the books in the _Villa_. A lot of them have information on the Assassins and Templars—trust me, I know. I've read them all while staying here in my free time."

"I just may look into them, but for now… I think I would like to enjoy Ghita's cooking."

The redhead snorted with a grin, "I'll bet. Come on then. Let's get you some food—you'll need it for tomorrow. Dodging has nothing on swordplay and real fighting. Prepare to have Mario ruin you with words alone."

"It sounds like I would rather remain in bed," the young man snickered as he stood and offered his hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall. I'm sure Claudia will be in a huff with how long we've kept her waiting," Catherine mused as she let him help her up.

"It helps her," he smiled slightly as he headed for the edge.

"I would do more… but…"

"She just needs more time to open up. She will. I… I will try and speak with her soon. I have… been ashamed to. I imagine you'll say I should not, but I am. I know I will overcome it, but not yet. I need more time."

"I guess I can try and talk to her, but you can't take too long. She does need you, you know. You're her brother and with your mother how she is… you're pretty much all she has left," Catherine frowned, touching his arm.

He sighed, "I know… I know… I will try—for her. For both of them. Ah, but here I am acting so dark, undoing all your work. I will try to stop doing that as well."

"Ezio, it's fine. It's only been a month. If you didn't get depressed sometimes then you'd be one cold bastard," she chuckled, hoping a little humor might cheer him up. It worked just enough to make him grin.

"Yes, I suppose your right. Although, I know a few ways to cheer me up again."

"Oh?" she hummed, raising a brow at the cheeky look he gave her.

"Oh, yes. I do not suppose you would be inclined to help me with them?"

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "Maybe… but first, how about you do one of mine ways?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know," she mused, glancing down at the ground, noting the haystack just below them. "Reliving memories from back home."

Ezio only had time to give her a confused look before she shoved him backwards off the roof. He let out a yelp as he flailed and landed right into the haystack. Catherine climbed down after, laughing the entire time, and though the young man scowled at first, he soon joined her merriment, and, even if for a moment, it did feel a little like back home.

**-O-**

**February 11, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"I have taught you how to avoid your enemy's attacks. Now you will learn how to turn them to your advantage," Mario spoke up from outside the ring, Ottavio by his side while Catherine and Ezio stood steps away from one another in the middle. In their hands they wielded blunt swords that showed a great deal of wear and tear from their use over the countless years. Ezio was poised with knees bent slightly, and one hand holding the hilt of his sword while the other remained back and fingers spread; ready to defend himself. Catherine's knees were bent as well, although not nearly as much and stood straighter than Ezio did. She held her blade out in such a way she was slightly perpendicular with him, her other hand kept near her hip. Before the older man could go on, though, Ezio glanced at him.

"All this talk of Assassins and Templars—I cannot help thinking it reeks of fantasy despite what you have shown and told me, Uncle."

His Uncle smiled slightly, "Like something from an old parchment covered in arcane writing, perhaps?"

"How did you know?" the young man asked, standing straighter, and even Catherine faltered in her pose to look back at the older man, whom gestured to his nephew.

"You have your father's blade. I figured you had the Codex page he was holding as well."

"Codex?"

"Yes. A guide to the inner workings of the order—it's origin, purpose, and techniques. Our creed, if you will. Your father believed the Codex contained a powerful secret; something that would change the world. Perhaps that is why they came for him…"

Catherine frowned. When had Giovanni had anything like that? She didn't remember such a thing in his room, which she didn't doubt it would be where he kept it. She knew the papers on Mario's wall were the pages after she'd finally asked, but there had been nothing at the _Palazzo_—or had there? She strained her memory and vaguely she recalled some odd parchment; some with odd writing. Had that been the pages? How had he even understood them, though? She looked to Ezio, mouthing "Codex" to him, but he only gave her a look that she knew meant he would speak to her later. For now, he shook his head with exasperation.

"Assassins, Templars, Codex pages… as always it is a lot to take in."

"You need to open your mind, Ezio," his Uncle replied and gestured with a finger. "Always remember: Nothing is true, everything is permitted. This is the mantra by which we live and serve the Order."

"What does it mean by everything, though? That seems… I dunno—dangerous?" Catherine frowned, but to her surprise Mario grinned of all things.

"Indeed. Everything is permitted, which means we must expect all things—especially of our enemy. It also means that there are no bounds; that there are no limits, and as such, we must limit ourselves."

"So it is a warning," Ezio mused, obtaining a wider grin from his uncle.

"Yes! Exactly. We have great power, but with it comes great responsibility. We must doubt all we see and question it and seek what is really _true_, but we cannot abuse our power or the truth we obtain. This is our solemn duty and responsibility as Assassins. We must protect our world and the freedom of our people, but never fall prey to the greed of power. It can be far too easy to become that which we fight against."

"So Templars abuse this power, while Assassins mean to quell it," the young Auditore hummed.

Mario nodded, "That is one way of putting it, yes, and you will find this is so the more you learn of your father's work and what history has to say. Of course we Assassins are not infallible. There are those of us who have forgotten their duty, and so ally become enemy. This war we face is by no means any easy one, although now it is a battle we wage in the shadows."

"This is…"

"Unbelievable?" Catherine finished for Ezio, whom nodded. "That's what I thought, too, but it's all there. Don't think too much into it yet—figure it out as you go."

"Indeed. You still have much to learn here—you need not rush into this. As such… for now, put it to the back of your mind. Today you will practice your countering," his Uncle chuckled and motioned for them to begin. "Catherine will strike at you with her sword, and it is up to you to counter it! Throw their attack back in their face! Begin!"

"Remember: don't hold back," the redhead warned as they both got into stance. Ezio just rolled his eyes as they began to circle one another. Catherine watched his movements carefully, although she would be the one to attack. Still, she wasn't going to go easy on him, and if his posture was sloppy, she would be sure to remind him. At the moment, though, it was alright, so she dashed forward and slashed at him from the side. Even if the blade connected, it would only leave a bruise at most—it was better for a bludgeon—but her partner blocked it and then swung his arm out to push her back. He punched at her as well, but it was slow, and she knew he was holding back. He'd done so more often than not in their training, and it was starting to frustrate her. She was more than enough challenge for him at this level, but he still refused.

Growling slightly, she kept her wits about as she charged again and sliced from above, cutting downward. He blocked and pushed her back again, swinging in a spin. She blocked it easily enough, and felt not nearly enough power behind it. Scowling, she went back to circling and cast glances at Mario. Thankfully, he saw them, and sighed with exasperation. He'd noticed his nephew was holding back, too.

"Ezio, stop restraining yourself! You will never improve this way!" the older man shouted, but his nephew only scowled. Mario rubbed his brow before looking to the redhead. "Show him how it is done, Catherine. Ezio, attack her and she will counter."

The young man's frown remained, but he did as told. He came for her, slashing at an angle. She met the blade with hers, giving off a dull clang, and pushed him back slightly to throw off his balance. At the same time, she spun and slammed the blade into his side. He made a yelp as he fell to a knee, clutching at his side, and looked at her with surprise.

"You might be holding back, but I am _not_. Stop treating me like I'm going to fall apart. Outside the ring you can be gentle if you want, but in here I am not some fragile woman made of glass or about to faint at the first sight of violence. I am one of Mario's soldiers in training, and you are hindering _both_ of our progress by restraining yourself. Now get up and fight me proper or you'll end up crawling out of here," she ground out, eliciting a look of pure surprise from Ezio's face. She did not reign in her harsh look, though. Thus far, she'd been mostly kind or let Mario do the harsh talking, but now they needed t be even more serious. Not to mention they had been working on dodging skills before—this was much different. Only Ottavio and she were his partners, and while the Captain was a sheer way to get better, she needed this, too. The extra training would help them both, and she needed—or at least wanted—to get stronger just as much as he did.

It took a few moments, but a new expression appeared on Ezio's face. She couldn't quite place it, but it instilled a sense that he was determined now, and she hoped his improved stance was proof that he understood and would stop holding back. Of course, the only way to tell was to begin again, so she did. Catherine charged and thrust forward as if to pierce through his stomach, but he slapped her blade aside and then elbowed her roughly in the face. She hissed at the pain and felt the blood flow before she saw it on his sleeve and the ground as she stumbled back. She looked to him and found his face fierce, though not in a terrifying way.

"I am sorry for that—."

"Don't be," she smirked, wiping the blood from her nose and flicking it to the ground. "You did exactly what I asked, and this is neither the first nor the last bloody nose I'll get here. Also: it's about damn time. Now we can really see if I can't kick your ass."

Briefly, he smirked back, and she laughed a little. Good. He was getting it. She didn't doubt he might falter, but it was better that he didn't. They needed this roughness to get tougher and stronger, so she was made sure to fight as hard as she could for him; striking, slapping, cutting, and thrusting quick and fast. He, in turn, was better about blocking and throwing blows her way. Some she dodged, if only to make a point, and his frustration would grow some. She could tell he hated hitting her, but she simply assured him she was fine even when she spat blood from her lip, which had cut open slightly. Of course, he was not without injury—Mario had told her to return strikes if he failed, so he had dried blood under his nose as well and she knew his cheek would be swollen tonight. They would both have plenty of bruises, too.

"Good work—keep at it, both you. Catherine, it is your turn to parry," Mario commanded from outside the ring. Catherine nodded, the two of them having paused for a breather and some minor instructions. The redhead tuned to take Ezio's next attack, but was waylaid as a familiar, but surprising voice rang out. Certainly, she had never seen or thought the Auditore's only daughter would come out of the _Villa_—if only because she'd been a recluse for most of the month once she got her dresses.

"Ezio! There you are! Ghita said I would find you here, and—," Claudia began, but stopped when she got close enough and saw their sorry state. Her mouth lay agape as she looked between them and struggled for words. "I—wha—_what_?! What happened!? Have you—Ezio did you hit her!? Did she hit you? What is this?!"

Catherine couldn't help snickering and grinning stupidly. Really, she shouldn't have, but she couldn't help it. The reaction just struck a humorous chord in her, although she did stifle it when Ezio gave her a look before walking towards his sister.

"Claudia, we are just training," he replied, raising his hands to placate her. "We… got a little rough."

"'Rough' is an understatement! You hit a woman!" his sister snapped right back, jabbing an accusing finger at him. On either side, Ottavio and Mario shared a wry look while Catherine came closer, too.

"I asked him to. And he's not the first guy to hit me here. Pretty sure all of them have. It's not a big deal. I don't want them to hold back because I'm a woman," she explained, but that did nothing to help.

Claudia frowned, "That is even worse! Uncle, how can you let them hit her? How can you even let her take part! This is no way for a lady to act!"

"Ah, but the little one is no lady in the ring—that I can assure you," Ottavio chuckled, and his grin only grew wider when the young Auditore spun on him, eyes blazing with a wild fury.

"And who do you think you are to say so, hmm? Another one of my Uncle's smelly brutes I wager!"

The Captain raised a brow, "'Smelly brutes'? I, my dear lady, am a Captain, and though I do smell sometimes, I am hardly a brute. I dare say I am quite sophisticated. In fact, allow me to introduce myself. I am Ottavio Soranzo."

The man bowed then, as if he were a nobleman himself, but there was no swaying Claudia. Indeed, her face remained poised with hot anger and there was no kindness in her eyes for Ottavio.

"A bow does not make one sophisticated. Not to mention your clothes are dirty and ragged, your hair a mess, and your face unkempt. No fancy bow or a few manners will change that," she huffed, although Ottavio only laughed more, ever bemused by the young woman. She ignored him after that, turning to her brother. "That oaf almost made me forget why I came! Just how long do you plan on training? It is has already been a month!"

"He is still learning many things, my dear," Mario replied for his nephew, coming out to touch her shoulder gently. She did not pull away, but Claudia did give him a sour look. "If you are so unhappy here, I could arrange to send you elsewhere. There is a convent not far—you might live as a nun."

The young girl reeled back in horror, "A _nun_?! Uncle, you must be mad! I am a _lady_! I will have nothing to do with a convent!"

"Then what you have me do, mm? Shall I find you some work suited to your position?" her Uncle smiled wryly.

"A lady does not work! Uncle you are insufferable! Brother, you must see reason here! What more do you need to do?"

Ezio chuckled and gently took his sister's hand, "Claudia, please calm yourself. There is still a great many things I need to learn. I ask you only remain patient. Perhaps you can find something to bide your time. You were always good at stitching, and Mother needs you."

"I do not want to make dresses or work or be _here_. I want to be home. And Mother needs you, too," she replied back a bit harshly. "And then all this business with Father… I know Uncle has been telling you things. I have been reading the books. This… it is not…"

"Claudia," Ezio sighed softly and embraced her for a moment before cupping her cheek. "I know you wish to be home… but we cannot. Just please be patient, alright? And if you wish we may talk. I know I have been… distant."

Catherine glanced over at him, recalling the night before. It was good to see he was trying, but even now the difficulty in his attempt was palpable. He still felt that shame, and when the redhead looked at Claudia, she noticed his sister may have realized it, too. Certainly, there was hesitance as she met her brother's gaze. Catherine wished she knew how to help, but the young Auditore always acted like her haughty self and preferred to remain quiet. She wanted to press, but she'd never been sure it was the right thing to do.

"Perhaps later… but first you should see to Mother."

Ezio nodded, smiling gently, "I will—after training. You should try and find a hobby in the meantime, or something you would like to do. There is a lot more to the city than you think. You should ask Catherine—she could help you. She knows it well."

"I… suppose I can do that," Claudia hummed, glancing over at Catherine, and then pulled away from her sibling. "Just be sure you make good on your word. Auditores do not break it."

"No they do not, little one. Now, go on. I must finish up here."

"Do not get so beaten up—and do not hit a woman! That is awful!"

"I'm afraid Catherine will only hurt me more otherwise."

"And I will," the red head smirked, and laughed when Claudia glared accusingly. She lifted her hand in peace. "Sorry! I'm not much of a lady. I don't think I ever will be, but I'm pretty good at being helpful. I'd be happy to see if there's anything you'd like to do here. Dea would love to have a fellow seamstress."

"I will have to see. Good day to you all," she huffed, bowing lightly.

Ottavio chuckled, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Auditore. Feel free to come by again."

"Not on your _life_," she hissed, but only served to make the man laugh more.

"Mario, perhaps you should be training your niece—already her words are sharp and pierce deep!"

"Perhaps Uncle Mario should only choose men with manners to be their Captain or at least the sense to look the part!" Claudia snapped, lifting her head high, and storming off. All the while, Ottavio continued to chuckle and watched her until she was out of view. Only then did he look back to the others.

"I believe I'm starting to see the family resemblance, although I think she may take after you, Mario," he grinned. "She has your temper, anyways."

"Mind yourself, boy. I can still trounce you," the older man chided, although he was grinning.

"She's not so bad once you get to know her… although your first meeting was a _lot_ worse than mine," Catherine hummed. Beside her, Ezio just chuckled as he shook his head.

"Do not expect her to ever lose it, either, my friend."

"I find it rather endearing, actually," the Captain snickered to the others amusement.

"Ah, but that is enough. You both can see to her later, and Ottavio… if you wish to keep your head you will want to leave her be," Mario grinned, and his comrade just lifted his arms as he laughed. The older man then motioned Catherine and Ezio back into the ring. Both nodded and moved outward. The redhead kept close to the young man, though, for a few moments longer.

"Do you want me to talk to her instead?" she asked softly.

He sighed, "I… yes… for now. I should see to Mother first, anyways… I do not even know if she will speak, but I must try… and perhaps you will find something for Claudia to do. It will help her as training has helped me."

"Okay. I'll show her around… I'll see if she'll work with Dea or something. Until then—don't go easy on me," she replied, grinning a little. Ezio managed to grin back, and then they took their stances. With a quick shout from Mario, they began again.

* * *

**18** – _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's chapter 18! So. Ezio is still wearing sad pants, but it's reasonable when only a little over a month has gone by and all. Cat is on the job to help him, though, and we learn some more back story and how he met Cristina, although we all knew that already ;) Oh, and the pushing-off-the Duemo and cat thing is... well, you maaaaaaaaaay see it pop up in perhaps two stories that will show up here. Maybe. It's... a fun thing with my friends who write fanfic as well xD But yeah, the bit with Federico and the cat IS NOT CANNON. IT IS A FUN HEAD-CANON BETWEEN MY FRIENDS. Just to be clear on that. The same goes for 'Rico pushing Ezio off the Duemo. This doesn't ACTUALLY happen. We just thought it would be hilarious xD_

_Anyways... so training gets tough! Ezio has to go against some of his principles and smack 'Cat around, but don't worry-she hits him right back ;) And now... well, Claudia will have her debut soon and become a chapter focus so yay! Unfortunately, she doesn't show up much just because she and 'Cat don't interact tooo much... but hopefully that will change soon! Hopefully. Claudia is somewhat stubborn ;)_

_So I think that's it. Any comments or questions? Just ask in a review or PM and I'll answer as spoiler-free as possible!_


	20. Big Girls Don't Cry

**TMWolf: **_Well, just barely managed to get this chapter done in time! Still on the whole seeing how it goes as we go, so again, updates are not guaranteed on time. This one thankfully is, and it's a Claudia chapter!_

_As always, how I write the characters is how I interpret them based of the canon material. _

_For reviews:_

**_Laurel:_**_ Unfortunately, their relationship evolves kind of slow because Catherine is more involved with Ezio and training, but they will have moments. This chapter is all about them, though! :)_

_Today's chapter title is from Fergie's - Big Girls Don't Cry. Not really much to do with the lyrics, but the title was perfect. You'll see ;)_

_Enjoy! And lemme know if you have any questions or see errors and I'm always happy to get your little comments! xD_

* * *

**19 **\- _Big Girls Don't Cry_

* * *

**February 13, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine had meant to see to Claudia sooner. Really, she had. She had meant to take her out the day after she'd "confronted" them in the ring, but had been waylaid by training and the woman being not exactly approachable. She was huffy to say the least, and seemed to prefer staying in her room more than going out to do anything despite what she'd said. Catherine wasn't really sure what to make of it beyond that Claudia was just lost and didn't know what she was doing, so she lashed out. It was one of the few things she knew how to do for handling stress, so there it was. Unfortunately, that made it hard to approach and talk to her; to coax into coming out. Ezio had told her to just wait until his sister had calmed down, so that's just what the redhead did for the next two days. Now she figured it was time to try.

"You sure she won't bite my head off?" Catherine inquired softly in the upper hallway, glancing over at where Claudia's door was.

Ezio chuckled, "Yes, I am sure. She was a little upset this morning, but she will enjoy a walk around the city. It helped me, after all."

"Yeeah, but she's not exactly you," the redhead grinned slightly. The young man just grinned back and she chuckled, too. "Right, well, I asked Mario for the day off so I could do this, so you better not laze around without me to kick your ass."

"Please—at most we're even."

She raised a brow and jabbed his stomach, causing him to yelp, "I don't think that bruise I gave you is calling it even. Now, get going. And remember—."

"—don't cause trouble. I know," Ezio laughed lightly, and then trotted off. Catherine watched him go with a grin, but it faded as she turned and made her way towards his sister's room. It was about eight in the morning, so the young woman was most likely up. She had always gotten up somewhat early at the _Palazzo_, and sleeping had been difficult for her according to her brother. Still, the redhead rapped lightly on the young woman's door just in case, but then Ezio was proven right when it opened to reveal the huffing face of one Claudia Auditore. It lessened, though, as she realized who it was, and instead frowned with puzzlement.

"Catherine? What are you doing here?"

"I've come to get you—we're going on a tour of the city. Mario gave me the day off, so let's get to it. You have a good walking dress and shoes, right?" she grinned, and laughed lightly at Claudia's look of just total confusion, mouth agape.

"I—what? A _walk_? Catherine, please," she scoffed, waving her hands, but Catherine just rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Claudia, please," she shot right back playfully. "All you do is stay in the _Villa_ except that one time two days ago. You said you wanted to do something, right? Well, come with me and find something to do. It's not a big city, so it won't take a long time and you'll be able to check everything out. You just might find something you want to do. And if not… well, it's good for your health, so come on."

"Catherine, I do not want to," the young woman insisted.

"Claudia, come on. Just this once. I can show you the horses and there's a small family that makes some reeeeally good sweet rolls. Ezio told me you like those."

She flushed, "Ezio did what—oooh! That idiot! Ugh! _Fine_! Just stop bothering me! I will go on your stupid walk!"

"Good! Change if you want, otherwise let's get going! Oh, bring a coat if you get cold easy. It's cloudy today, so it might not get as warm as it could."

Claudia glared at her briefly, although there was no real animosity in it. Rather, she was being her usual self, but she dropped it as she turned into her room, got a shawl, of sorts, which she pulled over her shoulders, and closed her door behind her. She looked to Catherine expectantly, even lifting her head a bit. The redhead couldn't help chuckling. She had a feeling some of her haughtiness was a ruse, but the fact she had the strength to even muster it was incredible enough—especially when _she_ was taking care of their mother for the most part. It had to be killing her see her mother like that.

"Alright, let's get going. I'll take you out on the same tour I took Ezio, so we'll start with the gardens. They're… not great, and the winter has been hard on it, but I think it will come back. Maybe you could help with that? Did you ever learn about gardening?"

"Of course not—we have servants to tend to the gardens or mother would see to her flowers. I would never dirty my hands," Claudia balked, as if it were the craziest idea. Catherine silently rolled her eyes. The young woman would have to learn soon enough she'd need to get dirty hands around here to do much of anything. No doubt Mario would pressure her after a while, depending on how much longer the training went. She, personally, hoped it was long time, but she knew better than to hope too much right now.

"Alright, alright. Anyways, come on—we'll go out the back through Mario's office. Have you seen his office? Read any of the books? Some are like the ones back home or have poetry or about history. You should read them if you like that sort of thing."

The young woman didn't give her much of an answer, which Catherine surmised meant she probably would. Well, there was one thing she could be happy with, which was a huge win in the redhead's book. She had thought Claudia tough before, but already she was starting to question her attempt here. Of course, she thought back on the real why—to make sure she was okay and could settle in—and pushed her mindset right back into order. She was doing this for Claudia. The young woman needed someone to help her have fun while her brother was busy and show her it could be alright like she had with the young man. She knew it would be much harder—she was far more stubborn than Ezio—but she had said she would do this, so she would.

As she had told Claudia, Catherine led her down the halls, through the secondary and Mario's offices, and then out to the gardens. Thought she was not lost in her sorrow, the woman was like her brother: not fully interested. Oh, she made sounds of acknowledgement here and there, but her mind was mostly elsewhere and Catherine could tell she wanted to keep going. Perhaps one day, when the garden was beautiful again, Claudia might enjoy it. For now, however, the redhead cut down on the garden tour and brought her down the stairs to the training ring where the men were working. She briefly summarized, figuring Claudia wouldn't care, and she was right. She promptly ignored the men, while Catherine waved or rolled her eyes at their taunts. The young woman _did_ wave to her brother, though, but that was it before they descended the stairs to the fountain.

"So this is the fountain you saw—it's the Assassin symbol; the mark of the Order your father was a part of."

"'Assassin'," Claudia mused, rolling the word off her tongue as if it were some foreign language. Catherine turned towards her and found a sullen, hurt look. It was promptly sealed away behind a stoic demeanor—acting as if she said nothing. "Well? Are we to stand here all day or will we see the city?"

"We'll see the city," the redhead smiled, wishing the young woman would just say how she was _really_ feeling, but what right did she have? She and Claudia weren't family or even really friends like she was with Ezio. It was foolish to think the young Auditore would open up to her, even if it was to help. Maybe it wasn't her right to help, either, but she knew she wanted to. She had lied to Claudia and the others, and the deaths were partially her fault. She could never bring herself to say so—the guilt ate at her when she could not keep her thoughts preoccupied—so she hoped to help any way she could instead.

She wanted to say more to Claudia, but in the end she only smiled and kept her moving. She brought her through some of the home areas, specifically to Dea's. _That_ actually got something out of the young woman, who perked up at the revelation she would be seeing her. Catherine held back her grin some as she came to the well-kept house. Outside the woman's house, the sister swept, and after a quick hello they were told Dea was within. They were welcome to come in, of course.

"Ah, Catherine, my Lady! I was not expecting you. Please forgive the mess! It is so cluttered—I must apologize. I've just been so busy making clothes and my sister must tend to her own children and—."

Catherine laughed as she waved the woman's worries off, "It's fine, Dea. You do a lot of good for the city, I'm pretty sure no one will mind a little mess. Besides, the blacksmith is way worse—you've heard his wife complain."

"Oh, goodness, yessss. She complains sooo much at Service. I pity her, really. Her husband has no sense of organization! Although, I am no better right now, but oh! Forgive me! Here I am prattling on and I have not offered a drink or any food!"

"Don't worry, Dea, I'm taking Claudia on a tour of the city, but she wanted to come see you," the redhead replied, turning to Claudia, whom blinked and then her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. She stepped forward almost shyly before she looked to Dea, reclaiming her usual sense of pride.

"Greetings, I have come to, ah, thank-you—for the dresses. It was awful until you made them for me and in such a short amount of time. Truly, I am in your debt," she spoke and curtsied politely. Dea didn't answer at first. Her face was too busy turning red as a tomato and she clutched as her skirt with a great deal of embarrassment. The petite woman couldn't find her words for a few moments before her flush deepened and she curtsied back.

"Oh, I was the one who was honored, my lady! I have—well, ah, I have never made dresses for one of your stature, so I-I worried they were not good enough, but, ah, I am so glad they are! I will be happy to make you more! I have always wanted to make such pretty dresses, so please, if you desire more please let me know! If only so I do not only make clothes for men!" she managed to laugh, brushing locks of auburn hair behind her face.

Claudia blinked, taken back, "Ah, well, ah… I… I would like that—very much so. Actually, ah… my mother—she needs more dresses. She's not much taller than me and of similar stature. You… you will still most likely need to come to the _Villa_, but she could use some as well. Would you..?"

"Oh goodness—of course! I would be delighted! Oh, thank-you, my Lady!" Dea exclaimed with delight, coming over to grab the young Auditore's hands and squeeze them with her own. "I'll come over this evening as soon as I finish my latest work. I would have you there, if you would not mind. I would like your input and you can let me know what you would like."

"Ah—oh, of course. Certainly. Catherine, you will be sure to have us back by then, will you not?"

The redhead nodded, "Of course. The tour won't take long, I imagine, although I want to take her riding around the city."

"You will enjoy it, my Lady! The horses love to run and the land around the city is actually quite pretty."

"Really?" Claudia hummed softly, and Catherine thought she saw a glimmer of anticipation. She hoped so—she wanted the young woman to try and enjoy this as much as she could. Of course, the young woman was also ridiculously hard to read, so maybe it was a sarcastic reply.

"Oh, yes, yes. But I have taken enough of your time. Please, go on and enjoy yourself, my lady. I will see you later this evening!" Dea laughed with delight and curtsied again. Claudia returned it, and Catherine bowed her head and waved before leading the young Auditore out. They said farewell to the sister as they continued on, and although the redhead explained who lived where and what they did, she kept an eye on her companion. Mostly, she sought a sign that the visit had given the young woman some joy, but as always her face resembled more like a statue until she frowned or huffed. Hopefully by the end I would be better.

Until then, Catherine led Claudia through the city, having her meet and greet whomever they came by. She met some of the young children in the streets or those families in the home. In those moments she swore she saw a flicker of emotion, but it was buried quickly by the common courtesy required for greetings and pleasantries. The redhead still noticed, though, and briefly wondered if she should stop. If anything, seeing the children and families might make her think of her own or the lack of it. A part of her thought perhaps it was good that she did think about it, but another considered the opposite and that they should move on. The latter won out in the end, as the families would head off on their own things, and Claudia would look to her expectantly. Catherine kept it moving again.

She went through the market next and introduced her to the Doctor who was very courteous. To Catherine's surprise, the young woman was interested in what he had to say, although it didn't take long of hearing Claudia's questions about illnesses that caused someone to be in shock for a long period to figure out why. She hoped for a cure for her mother, but the Doctor said such a sickness may beyond his abilities, but that he could visit in a few days if she would like. The young Auditore was hesitant at first, but agreed to it. Catherine felt her heart pang for the young woman; for that hopelessness she felt for her mother. Maria had remained reticent for all the time they'd been here, and Ezio had told her she had been from the moment their father and his brothers had been taken.

Claudia gave her thanks to the Doctor and then they moved on once more. The young woman had little interest for the blacksmith, although she was mostly kind to him. However, when he joked about outfitting Mario's niece, she had sharp words for him, noting how no lady would need such weapons. Of course the blacksmith was a cheeky man and reminded her that a certain redhead had weapons. Claudia was haughty to reply how Catherine was apparently set on defying normal customs. The "lady" in question grinned with amusement at the whole thing, and laughed a little as Claudia stormed, refusing to speak with "one of Mario's daft men". The blacksmith took it well enough and just reminded Catherine her proper belt would be ready soon, made to suit her exactly. She thanked him and then followed after Claudia.

"I take it you'll never let me live down playing with swords and the training?" she mused playfully, and the young woman gave her a look through narrowed eyes.

"No, I will not. What you are doing is wrong."

"According to who, though? Mario and the men don't seem to mind, and even Ezio has gotten used to it—speaking of… He's waving right now."

Claudia paused to wave before glaring slightly, "It is just _wrong_. A lady does not engage in battle or wield a weapon!"

"Then what would you have me do? I have no skill for stitching, I abhor dresses, I'm hardly the picture of lady-likeness, and I have no intention of marrying and bearing children any time soon—all that's left is to be a warrior, right?"

"There are _plenty_ of things you can do! Not to mention you have proven to be a fast learner, and I highly doubt you have had no suitors with so many men around."

Catherine laughed, "Ever astute. But what if I don't _want_ to do all those things? What if I _want_ to be a warrior? Learn how to fight?"

"It is foolish, though—you are a woman!"

"Maybe it is, but I chose to do it," the redhead shrugged. "I'm sorry it upsets you, but I made my choice. You can make one, too, Claudia. I don't mean as a warrior—no need to glare—but as… well, something _you_ want to be. Whatever you were told to be before, you don't have to be it here. You can be more—whatever you want. So you can be a seamstress, or a baker, or a cook, or a married woman, or a mother, or whatever else you can think of. You have that choice, Claudia—just like I do."

Claudia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her expression was thick with incredulousness and an odd mixture of emotions that tumbled within her. It surprised Catherine. Honestly, it did; she hadn't thought such words would strike a chord in her, but the young woman before her was thinking—really thinking. She struggled. She wanted to say something; no doubt she wanted to call the redhead a fool, but something within the young woman had resonated with the words. It made her mouth close and crease together in thought. She tugged her shawl closer as her eyebrows furrowed, still struggling for the words. Catherine tried to think how it might have moved the woman to such contemplation, but it was lost on her.

In the end, no words passed through the long minute—or was it minutes or hours; she couldn't tell—until Claudia let out a long, deep sigh. She looked towards the fountain where the Assassin symbol was, and that sadness that Catherine had seen when she arrived returned. Her eyes did not water, but the redhead knew a broken heart when she saw it.

"I would like to continue the tour. Dea—she mentioned the outside is pretty, no? I… would like to see it," she spoke softly as she steeled her emotions, but her wall was cracked some. Catherine pretended not to notice as she smiled warmly.

"Sure. Do you know how to ride?"

"Yes. Father and my brothers taught me."

"I take it you like to?" she asked with a slight grin as she brought her through the other side of the city.

She rolled her eyes some, "Yes. I do."

Catherine just laughed, "Good. I think I know the horse for you."

Before that, though, she showed her where some of the other families lived and the church, too. It was still closed, but the preacher ran a service outside his home, which she showed as well. She suggested Claudia go if she felt like it—the priest really was a nice guy, although Catherine personally found him a bit odd, but Claudia seemed to entertain the thought, if only to find a sense of solace in her dark times. It would come later, though; the young Auditore insisted on continuing the tour and Catherine brought her to a home which actually served as a bakery. The family wanted to open a proper shop, but didn't have enough funds or a good space for it so they used their own home. They were all too happy to give the two young women sweet buns, wrapped for the road. Catherine could see the young Auditore wanted them now, but she had a better place to eat them.

"Alright, just this way—to the stables," the redhead grinned and led them through the gates. Claudia waited as Catherine got the stable hand to retrieve their horses, and the redhead noted she was somewhat admiring the landscape. It was nothing like the view of a city, but there was something endearing about a rustic landscape; it was just so open and free and vernal even in winter.

"Here are you, Catherine, Lady Auditore," the older man grinned as he brought over a pure-white horse and Catherine's favorite chocolate one with white socks and diamond mark on the forehead. The redhead was all too happy to take her reigns and hop up, while the stable hand helped Claudia up to sit side saddle and then bid them farewell with a request to tire the beasts out.

"No worries—they'll be eager to rest when we're done," Catherine snickered and pushed her horse into a trot. She knew he wanted to gallop, but she had a feeling it would be harder for Claudia in side saddle, so it was kept at a smooth pace. Like in the city, she pointed out various farmlands and homes, stating what was growing where and who might live there. She didn't have all of them memorized, but knew them well enough to give the young Auditore an idea. Of course, the young woman wasn't exactly interested, but she feigned it well enough as she settled into her own thoughts. In part, Catherine hoped the ride would help Claudia think, and it seemed to be working.

So the redhead kept them moving and eventually stopped pointing out things. There was no need, anyways, and they were almost at where she'd planned to let them rest. It was nearly at the exact back of the city. There a farmer had a decent-sized small house with a tiny bit of farmland. Near it, though, was a patch of trees—just three or four—amongst an outcrop of the white rocks that surrounding the city. The grass was green beneath it, and a particular boulder that jut out from the ground was flat enough to serve as a place to sit. It was there Catherine brought their horses and tied hers to a low branch. Claudia had a raised brow as she dismounted and did the same, but the redhead just motioned for her to sit beside her on the rock.

"Here—we can eat the sweet rolls now," she chuckled as she put the package in Claudia's lap. The woman refrained from touching them right away. Rather, she stared at the cloth for a while and grasped at her skirt.

"Catherine," she began, and the redhead looked to her. "Why… why are you _really _doing this?"

Briefly, the redhead thought she would make some excuse, but she knew the young woman would see through it. She already had, after all, so Catherine sighed instead and shifted so she was facing Claudia more.

"Because… well, I wanted to help. I know we're not the best of friends or really much of friends, I guess, but… well… Claudia… It's been a month, I know, but… you just… you seem okay. You haven't really cried since the night you came here, but… are you okay? _Really_ okay?"

"A lady does not cry unless she must, and I already cried back in _Firenze_. I do not need to cry anymore," the woman replied quickly, but the hint of pain in her words was palpable. She bowed her head. "I thank-you for your concern, but I am perfectly fine. It happened a month ago and I have accepted it. If anything I am only angry with father for hiding his secrets—he should not have done such a thing!"

"You know he did it to protect you. If you had known about it… you may have been in more danger."

"He still should not have! He should have told us and then—!" she shouted, but then paused, realizing she had done so, and calmed down again. "He should not have kept it from us regardless. If he had we might have been able to do more to help when they—they came."

"Claudia," Catherine called out softly, reaching over to touch her shoulder, but the woman flinched away.

"_Do not_," she ground out, but it was more like a cornered creature than real anger. She was trying to hold herself together, but it was only causing more pain. The redhead knew her pushing was doing the same, but what Claudia was doing would only make it worse.

"Claudia, you don't have to put on a brave face. You _don't_. You saw your family taken and then suddenly they're dead—gone. No one will blame you for crying or being upset. I know I wouldn't. It's _okay_ to be sad about it, and to be hurt that Giovanni didn't tell you anything. It's okay to do that, Claudia. Just because you're a lady doesn't mean you aren't human, either. You don't have to be quiet. You can talk to people—to your brother. I'll listen if you need to, too. I know we didn't always get along, but I'm not going to turn my back on someone who needs help—especially not after what happened. So don't be afraid to cry or be upset or angry or emotional and don't feel ashamed to be like that."

Catherine saw the turmoil in Claudia's eyes. Her lips were curved in a frown, but it was weak and trembling and she was doing all she could to hold herself together. She had made a façade of a stoic woman, but it was only that: a façade. There was a young, broken child beneath who'd lost her family and found out hard truths, and she'd felt she couldn't show anything for the longest time. And now—now that resolve was crumbling, and the young woman let out a small sound of distress as she creased her lips together and closed her eyes.

"I am fine! I _want_ to cry, but—but I cannot! I want to be sad—I _was_ sad. I cried when Ezio told me they were dead. I cried, but I had to be strong. He asked me to be strong—for Mother, and I was! I was strong for him, and I thought it would be alright, but now—now I do not know! All of these secrets! Father was a banker but now he is suddenly an Assassin and killer and I do not know who he was! But I am not sad, I am just… I am _angry_! I want to hate him but I cannot! I love my Father, but I am angry—why did he not tell us? Why did he not speak of this? How can it even be true? What am I even to do about it? What am I supposed to think? I just do not know so I am left angry and hurt and I want to scream but I cannot. I have to be strong for Mother and Ezio, but how can I be? And yet there is _no one_ I can go to! Ezio wishes to be there but he is too busy training and acting like there is nothing wrong and somehow finding all of these secrets alright, and I am the one left to take care of Mother on my own and I cannot speak to her because she is _gone_! Mother is gone and I do not know how to bring her back, and Ezio cannot help or does not want to, and I just—I do not know what to do! I want to cry, but tears will do nothing and I just… I just—

The woman paused in her tirade as her shoulders suddenly dropped, all the energy gone from her. She looked ready to collapse, her lip trembling more.

"I want my family back," she ended, her voice cracking some. No tears came, but she pressed her face to her hands, her shoulders shaking.

So. There it was. Everything she had been hiding behind that mask—her sadness; her anger; her fear; her loneliness. It was worse than Catherine had ever imagined it to be, and sometimes she forgot how young Claudia was. She was maybe fourteen at most, and though that was an adult by this age's time, in hers she would still be someone's little baby. Yet, here she was enduring the hardships of her loss, but society required that she withstand it. It was unfair, and Catherine's heart writhed with sympathy for her. She put her arms around Claudia and held her close. The young woman didn't return the embrace, but she didn't pull away. She was released after a long moment, and Catherine kept a hand on her back, rubbing gently.

"It's okay to be angry and upset. I think I would be, too, if I was in your situation. But you're not alone, Claudia. Your brother… he… he's trying to do right by you, and he's actually a little afraid he's let you down. I'll see about getting him to find his courage again—be a man and talk to his little sister," she spoke, and briefly she thought she saw a tiny smile. "I'm here, too. I probably don't have the right, and you don't have to tell me anything, but… I'm willing to listen if you need to talk. And, if you need to… you can cry around me—I won't judge. And, um… well… I guess… just know your father loved you Claudia."

She made a choked sound and finally looked at her, "Then why did he hide all this from us?! Why did he have to get himself caught and leave us here!"

"Claudia, he hid it to protect you. He wanted to tell you one day—when you were older and ready, but he wanted to keep you safe above all. What he does… it's dangerous. He cared so much for you, though. He hated keeping it all secret, but he had to," Catherine replied, smiling as warmly as she could. She chuckled as a thought came to mind. "You know… he… he called you his little princess. He loved you so much. He always had such high hopes. He would joke how if Ezio and Federico didn't shape up and you refused all your suitors, he just might have you run his business—you would have the stubbornness to deal with everyone, he said, and the ferocity to never bow down and ensure success. He knew you were strong and would become an amazing woman. He loved you, Claudia. Your Father and brothers… they loved you more than anything."

"Still… he… they… they are gone…. They…" she whimpered softly.

"Yeah, they're gone—but they're always with you. You don't forget what happened, but you don't let it hold you back. You keep moving forward knowing they loved you and that there was nothing you could do, and that's okay. You'll be okay. You'll be angry and sad for a while, but you'll heal. It gets better in time, and you still have Ezio and Maria. Right now she's healing, too, and your brother as well, but you'll all get better with time. Until then… it's okay to show you're sad."

Claudia watched Catherine for a long while, her eyes showing how badly she wanted to believe it. Like her brother she would have trouble and it wouldn't be until she did finally lost her anger and hurt that she understood. It would take time, but she was a strong young woman. Just as strong as her brothers and father.

"Hey—how about we eat those sweet rolls now?" the redhead chuckled, and at last the young Auditore smiled. She even chuckled back as she unwrapped the pastries. She handed one to Catherine and then took a bite herself.

She gasped "It… it tastes like the ones back home."

"They are pretty good—Claudia?"

Tears were rolling down the young woman's face as she bit into the sweet roll again. She insisted she wasn't crying and used the roll to stuff her mouth to not sob, but the tears kept coming. Catherine knew she was alright, though; she just needed to finally let it all out. So she said nothing, just smiled, and let Claudia cry as much as she needed.

**-O-**

"So… I take it went well?"

Catherine glanced up as she ascended the stairs to the _Villa_, having finished her nightly run around the city. After bringing Claudia home, she'd been able to get in a bit of practice and then sent Ezio to speak with his sister—be a man as she'd told the young woman—so she was left to do her late routine. It seemed the young man had finished his work, too, apparently, and by the smirk on his face he already knew the answer.

She grinned, "Well, I like to think so. She… kind of cried, but she needed it. I'm just glad you finally talked to her—she really needed it."

"I am glad, too… although it was mostly just… little talking. It was a little awkward. But… we are getting better, I think. I only hope I will be able to make time for her with training… it is becoming more time consuming," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"It becomes easier to find free time the longer you go, and Mario will eventually give us a day off. He knows when the men need a day to relax and drink. Anyways, I'm hoping Claudia does feel better. I didn't find anything for her to do, but I think she might look now. She also took a liking to Dea, I think… so she can at least maybe have a friend," Catherine smiled as she walked beside him to the _Villa_.

"Ah, yes, I remember a woman in Mother's room—she was taking her measurements."

"Did Maria…?"

He smiled sadly, shaking his head, "No, she was unresponsive as always. The Dea woman… she tried to be jovial, but it was hard. Mother, I fear she may be lost for good… I do not know what to do for her."

"You'll think of something. I'll try and help with that if I can, too…"

"No, you have done enough—I could not ask you for more," Ezio replied, shaking his head. "That, and… I am not sure this is one you may help with. Claudia has tried to find _something_ that she is holding on to that may give us a sign, but… ah, I just do not know. I have so much I must do and I do not know if I can handle it all."

She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm, "Then _don't_, you dummy! I told you I was gonna help and I _am_. I can help with Claudia and with your training, and you just keep an eye on your mom. You don't have to do everything on your own, jeez."

"Catherine," he chuckled lightly, but she just gave him a stubborn look, folding her arms over her chest as they stopped in front of the entrance. He sighed, set his hands on his hips, but grinned. "Alright, alright. By God, you can be stubborn. I think Claudia is bad, but… you are far worse."

"I do my best. You love it, though," she winked, and he laughed.

"Sometimes. But thank-you, Catherine. I do not know what I would do without you."

She smirked, "Well, not get your ass kicked, but I think you enjoy that, too."

"You do _not_ beat me that badly or that much! Ah, you are impossible," he laughed again, shaking his head. He paused, though, to just smile again before he suddenly leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek. She froze, eyes wide, and he just snickered. "Thank-you, Catherine. Truly. Good night."

"Uh, yeah, uh—night," she somehow managed to garble out as he headed inside, although she swore her voice cracked. It made her cheeks grow warm and she knew her face was red. She huffed soon after, smacking her cheeks to not look so silly. It was just a dumb kiss on the cheek—there was no reason for her heart to be racing faster than usual or her blushing. It has just been so surprising. Yeah, that was it. She was flustered because he'd surprised her. That was it. Nothing else. Besides, she'd done that before, too. They were just friends. Nothing wrong with a friendly kiss between friends.

Idiot.

Sighing and shaking her head, Catherine headed into the _Villa_. She went up the stairs and to the right. She wanted to check on Claudia before she went to bed, and it turned out she was doing quite well. She had her haughty demeanor back, but she wasn't as bad as she had been. She even smiled and was more pleasant than usual, which was nice. Most importantly of all, though, Catherine knew she really would be alright as she had earlier. It was good to see, and so she left after embracing the young woman—much to Claudia's surprise—and then headed back through the hallway.

The redhead paused when she spotted Maria's door. It was open just enough to peer inside, and she knew she should have just continued on. The woman was in mourning—she shouldn't intrude. She wasn't even sure she had the right to console the woman. The guilt gnawing in her gut forced her legs to move, though; forced her to face the full depth of what she had caused for her inaction.

The room was lit only by the dim glow of a candle, but it was enough to see Maria crouched by her bed. Her head was down, eyes closed, and her lips moved—just about the only sign she was speaking. Her prayer, or whatever it was she murmured, was so soft it was like she was making no sound at all. Though her hair and clothes were well-kept—she thanked Ghita silently for that—there was a shadow around the woman. A dark, heavy shadow so thick it caused even the redhead's heart to sink. Her chest and gut clenched together and the guilt grew voracious. She knew she should say something—anything, but she couldn't. She was too much of a coward. She didn't want to see Maria's face—too see that chasm of sorrow and despair that she should and could have stopped, but didn't

So she turned away.

Catherine turned from the door and walked and didn't stop until she was in her room and shut the door behind her. However, even the thick wood couldn't keep the shadow out.

* * *

**19 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's Claudia's chapter! I always thought Claudia put on a brace face, and then thinking on how Claudia tells Ezio she'd been on her own for 20 years in Brotherhood... well, I always felt she stayed strong and didn't show much sadness because of it and for what society expected of her. Catherine, of course, cares not for your silly Renaissance rules and so Claudia is able to be... normal-even if only for a moment. But don't expect her to get all huky dory fast or anything-she IS still Claudia ;) She's a fun, but slightly difficult character to right, ha ha. She's just so stubborn!_

_Oh, and then tiny Catzio fluff at the end. Cheeky little cute bugger. _

_And then Maria... she... will be reticent for long like in the game, but I hope I might do more with it. Some things in this story come as they go, to be honest, so we'll see how it works out, but it will be a long while before 'Cat works with her, too. _

_Anyways, not much else to say today. Next chapter is more fun stuff, obviously, and another time skip! As I said, I have about 1.5 years to get through, so while things seem to happen fast for you readers and chapter-wise, it's MONTHS for the characters-quite a bit of time. :)_

_Until next chapter!_


	21. Home

**TMWolf: **_Sorry about missing the last few updates, guys! Really, I mean it. School has just been a little tough and time consuming, but it's over now and I'm ready to go! The only other obstacle is getting a job now, but hopefully when I get one it won't cut into update time :) Also the last chapter I finished was the longest by far, so that didn't help, ha ha. Anyways, I'm back and it's time to settle back into things!_

_Per usual, how the characters act is my interpretation based on the canon and so forth~_

_Review time!_

**_Laruel:_**_ Thanks a bunch! Claudia does have quite a bit for her. It's a shame 'Cat doesn't hang out with her more... but she will have more moments, I guarantee it :) Also, sorry for the lack of updates!_

_Now... the chapter comes from probably Phillip Phillip's Home. Fits well enough, anyways :p_

_Lastly, I'm always glad to hear your thoughts or if you find mistakes, so please let me know, and enjoy!_

**_PS THIS IS A BIG TIME SKIP. ALMOST A WHOLE MONTH. TIME IS FLYING, GUYS. GOT THAT 1.5 YEARS TO GO THROUGH AND ALL, HA HA._**

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**20 **–_ Home_

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**March 5, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine hummed a tune as she rubbed the apple she'd "stolen" from the kitchen on her white under-shirt. Once satisfied with its cleanliness she took a bite and trotted through the hallway. It was about ten, so most were off doing whatever they liked since it was their "rest" day and Mario only had the men train for a few hours—mostly just exercise. As such, even the servants essentially had the day off, which made it easier to snatch one delicious, red morsel from the kitchen under Ghita's nose, not that the woman really minded. It was a little out of boredom, too; without training she was free to do as she pleased, but all she generally did was either help spruce up the _Villa_ some—there wasn't much more she could do without money at this point, though—work on her drawings, read and study or just trot about and "steal" apples. As such, she figured she would do the later and maybe actually try studying again since she'd been unable to for a while now. If she did, it was in the late hours after dinner, but even then she'd read most every book so there was almost nothing left to study.

'_And yet you remain a pain in the ass. You activate _once _and then never again? Make up your damn mind,' _the redheaded young woman sighed as she pulled her Clock free, glared at the single dial, and then slipped it back into her pocket. Truly, it was a fickle thing and she wasn't sure how it was supposed to help at all. It had only given her the visions twice—the dream of the Auditores being taken, and then their hanging—and then nothing more. She had pressed it for answers; to have the man appear before her again and explain himself, but there was nothing. It was infuriating, but there was nothing she could do. She could only be glad that all the extra training with Ezio was keeping her occupied. Indeed, she rarely thought of the Clock except in the dead of night and only every so often. The young man just had a way of distracting her from it, as did his sister and now more often his Uncle.

It hadn't escaped her notice that Claudia was more cheerful than she had been before, although not _too_ much more. She would keep up her dour mood, and would always snap at Ottavio when she came to the ring, although the Captain seemed to find it almost _endearing_. It was an odd thing, but Catherine and Ezio both found it amusing, too. In fact, the only who didn't seem to was Claudia, whom would always leave in a huff after her retort to him. Ezio, like-wise, was generally more cheerful than his sister. He spent most his time with Catherine, whether it was training or afterwards, but she had pushed him to go be with his sister some nights, and she liked to think it was helping. It seemed like it, anyways. Sometimes Mario would keep them occupied, too, and lately the older man had been talking with them for a while after dinner. It made her a little jealous—Mario used to talk for hours with her—but she understood. He was busy, and they were his family. Ezio was meant to continue in his father's work, and she still wasn't sure what her part was.

She had other things to think on anyways, such as training and Emilio. The bastard had, unfortunately, not really backed off. He had tried a few more times to fight her—or rather demolish her—in the ring, but Mario had begun to decline, saying the difference in strength was only causing harm and not benefiting either of them, so she was saved from that. However, he sought to harass her in other ways; subtle ones. The chatter among the men that she might be "intimate"—they has used a more crude way of saying it—with Ezio had its origins with Emilio. Calling her a tease and a whore; how she had no place among them and that she was using the young man to garner more favor with Mario. Thankfully, only a handful believed him, and Mario made it very clear he would have not have his men becoming immature, gossiping women, or else he would grant them their desire and, for lack of a better word, castrate them himself. Ezio had wanted to defend her honor as well, but she had thankfully been able to stop him. If he had, she didn't doubt men would think the rumors _true_, but since Mario had intervened, most of the talk had stopped. Emilio, of course, had not.

Mostly it was sneers and rude remarks, but sometimes he "accidentally" bumped into her or hit her with a weapon or almost tripped her. It was little annoyances, and they grate on her nerves like nothing else. She knew it infuriated Ezio, too, but she just kept him at bay and so he did nothing. Neither of them wouldn't achieve anything by fighting him back, anyways. Perhaps if she were stronger or at least at similar strength she might have challenged and beaten him fairly, but she knew she was no match and may never be. It was just easier to deal with the annoyance with a straight face and continue her training. If Mario noticed, there was punishment, but Emilio was smarter than he seemed. Her only reprieve was that the other men tended to not join in with physical things, although they might throw verbal jabs at her. They were too loyal to Mario and afraid of his retribution to try anything. Although, she did sometimes worry they might help him—especially if she were alone. She tended to keep the notion out of her mind, but made sure to never be caught by herself—particularly not at night.

Emilio was bound to grow bored eventually. He was a bully, yes, but they got their rush from getting a rise out of the victim, but she gave him nothing and remained happy. He would just find someone new eventually, or until Mario finally grew tired of his insubordination and deemed it a detriment to his troops, which meant exile. Until then, she would just deal with it. She had known she would suffer some kind of torment when she joined anyways—a woman becoming a warrior among men? There was bound to be animosity.

'_Ah, but don't worry about that today, you. It's free day, so you get to do what you want,' _she smiled as she bit into her apple and headed out into the main hallway. Since she had time, and didn't feel like drawing nor had any repairs to the _Villa_ or city she could really do, she figured she could read some more. That, or see what Ezio was up to, but the young man was aloof oddly enough. He wasn't in his room or the usual spots, which left her with one choice.

"Oh, good morning, Catherine," a familiar voice called out, and the redhead glanced up to find Claudia. The young Auditore spared her a smile—something she'd become fond after their day out together. She didn't believe they were close friends, but she figured they were at least people they could find some comfort with each other. If it made Claudia capable of smiling, though, Catherine figured that was good enough.

"Morning, Claudia. Sleep alright? It was a little cool last night, though it's getting warmer," she relied from down below.

"I had plenty of blankets, so I was warm," the young woman replied, though looked thoughtfully at her a moment later. "Is today your… what did they call it?"

"Rest Day?"

She nodded, "Yes. That is the one."

"Yeah, that's today. Why d'ya ask?" she inquired back, taking another bite of her apple.

"Oh, it just explains why Ezio is in the library reading. I do not think I have ever seen him really _read_ in his life," she mused, frowning slightly. She looked down to Catherine again and raised a brow. She sighed, shaking her head. "Must you wear trousers even on your off day?"

Catherine grinned like a fox, winking, "Of course. It wouldn't be the same if I didn't have you nagging at me every day."

Claudia rolled her eyes, "I do not _nag_!"

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll go see what your brother is up to since you're so interested. You should go visit Dea or something—she really enjoyed coming here and spending time with you."

"Hmm… I suppose I could do that. She… she is good company. I am learning many things I never thought one could do with stitching. It is very useful, and she is a sweet woman… Yes, I think I will. Perhaps buy some of those sweet rolls as well."

"Just remember you have an allowance—Mario would be mad if he caught you spending it all on sweets," she snickered, bringing a flush to the young woman's face.

"I do not spend it only on sweets! You are terrible!" she snapped back, but Catherine knew it was essentially in jest. It was almost routine, actually; ending on a sharp retort. As always, the redhead just laughed and continued on through to the secondary study, which was a little more cluttered with things now—no doubt to Ghita's exasperation. She grinned secretly at that as she continued into Mario's study and, despite Claudia's already telling her, she was surprised to find Ezio there with his nose buried in a book. There was a distinct look of concentration about him, his brow furrowed and lips set in a thin-creased frown. It was almost unusual to see him so focused—even in training he would carry an air of levity.

"Well, well, what's this—you're _reading_?" she grinned, and laughed when he jerked up, surprised. He gave her a look, though pulled himself away from the book to sit back in the chair, slumping some. Like her he only had casual clothes on—his favorite ones from _Firenze_, she realized; vest and all. She hadn't realized he'd brought them with him. She pushed the notion aside, though as she set herself on the edge of the desk, bit into her apple, and regarded him for a moment. "So. What'chya readin'?"

He paused, glancing to the book, and set his elbow on the arm rest to push his cheek against his fist, "You mentioned these books contained information on the Assassins, yes?"

"I did," she replied, glancing at the volumes he kept. Most were historical ones, but only a few were what he was looking for.

"Well, I figured I could… _try_ and read and learn more about them. Mario has… said a lot. I believe him now—mostly. I believe the Assassins and Templars exist, anyways. I'm still not sure about Father. I _do_ recall him leaving late at night sometimes and Mother appearing worried, but… he was always either at the bank or home and I rarely saw him leave…"

"He had a secret exit," she mused, and he looked at her surprised. "It was in the room where you got his robes—if you pulled on one of the torches, a back door would open. He could slip out unseen. He took me through it once—a few days before I left and also the day I did."

"He… was a man of many secrets."

"Such is the nature of the Assassins… but you know he never lied about his love for you and the family. He _was_ your father."

He managed a smile, "I know. I believe _that_. At most I am still just angry he hid it from us—well, besides Federico. I mean… I think I suspected something was going on, but not this."

"Well, if I was in your position I would be taking a long time, too. It's only been a little more than two months since everything happened. You're only so lucky that you have your training to focus on."

He glanced at her, "That… is true. Although it's taking longer than I thought it would. I suppose that just means I have more time to learn about Father's work, but…"

"Training takes a long time. I've been at it six months, and I only just had my first real battle the night you arrived. It'll be months still before Mario thinks I'm ready to really join his forces. It just takes so long because we have to build up your muscles and endurance, which is why we do so much exercise and practicing techniques. And then you have to get it so close to perfect it's basically instinct, and there's actually a lot of moves to learn. You may be here for at least six months like I was."

"_Six months?!_ Catherine, that is far too long! What if the Templars come after us here?!" he shouted, sitting up. She lifted up her hands for peace, though, and he seemed to calm, but only a little.

"This place is a fortress, Ezio. It's a city, too, but this place has survived battle after battle. It would take an entire army to take this place down. Trust me, I've read all the books and talked to people in the city that have lived through it all. Not to mention Mario has more men outside the city, and there's at least forty here who actively train. The rest are spread out in the countryside and stationed in some cities. If he called them back, we could easily have over a hundred men, and I doubt whatever Templars there are that they could muster the same force. Not to mention they prefer to work from the shadows. Uberto was a man of power, so to speak, but he didn't command armies. He used his power in law to get what he wanted, not send men to attack. Besides, I doubt they even know you're here, and _no one_ in this city would betray you—they're all too loyal to Mario. And I doubt any merchant would recognize you, not that you see many, right?"

"Well, no," he rumbled, settling down. Catherine just smiled as she slipped off the desk and came over to squeeze his shoulder.

"You're safe here, Ezio. You and your family are. Personally, I would suggest you stay, but I know you want to go still, but just know while you train you'll be protected," she smiled, and he returned it, reaching up to grasp her hand. She pushed away the small trickle of guilt she felt. She wished he would stay. She didn't want him to go at all, but she didn't know how or if she should stop him.

"Thank-you. That is good to hear. Now if only I could learn faster—in both training and these books! I do not know how you found time to read them all."

"Well, I had the hours after training free, so I had way more time. These days I'm too busy keeping your pretty face from getting roughed up. Wouldn't want to disappoint those ladies you're so fond of flirting with," she hummed, again ignoring a slight stab of something in her gut.

He grinned mischievously, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh. Just don't think you can escape their fathers if you decide to have 'fun' with any of them. They _will_ catch you, and Mario will have your hide."

"Mario will?" he frowned, puzzled.

Catherine smirked, "Mario discourages relationships with the women here for the men until done with training, unless they're already married. Most are or have a betrothed somewhere else or nothing at all. He says it just makes it easier so they don't slack off and don't get the city-folk mad. Yeah, the men don't like it, but, well, the brothel isn't any closer to being opened so no hope there. Most will head out of the city on our Rest Day to deal with it. At least that's what Ottavio told me once."

"Perhaps I should see about getting the brothel fixed then," he hummed, a devilish look to his eyes.

She smacked his arm, "Cool it, hot stuff. Besides, aren't you still moping about Cristina? Wait—shit. I didn't…"

It was said, though, and she winced when she saw him flinch slightly. She thought she saw his cheeks turn a little red, but she definitely saw the pang of hurt and regret on his face. He ultimately waved off her apology, though, and sighed.

"I _am_ still upset… but it was the right choice, and what is the point of 'moping' as you said? I will never see her again, and I cannot hope to. It is better I move on, and what is wrong with flirting and having fun? Men have needs, Catherine; surely you know that? Or are you so innocent?" he mused, giving her a wry grin. She flushed, face growing hot, and smacked him again. He made a small "ow" but laughed anyways.

"I know men have _needs_," she hissed. "I'm older than you, remember? I'm just saying!"

He laughed some more and leaned forward onto the desk, "Do you? Because I do not think you do. Have you ever been with a man, kitty-Cat?"

"_That_ is none of your business, little boy!" she snapped again, giving him a hot glare, but when he laughed, she shoved him slightly and spun on her heel. "Oh, fuck off!"

"Wait, wait—I was only joking!" he laughed as he caught her arm. She wrenched it away, folded it over her chest, and continued to glare. He just went on smirking, lifting his arms for peace. "It is alright if you have not—it explains quite a bit, to be honest. I have to say you are missing out, though."

"Uh-huh. I bet you know all about it. Now do you want me to throttle you or will you change the subject?"

"Alright, alright—but you will have trouble finding a man if you run away from such topics," he added in quickly with a wink, and laughed once more as she threw her apple at him. This time, she spun and trudged towards the exit before he could stop her. "No, Catherine, wait—I was only joking again! I am done, I swear! Please—I do need help learning more!"

He was still laughing, and when she stopped and turned to face him, he was grinning like the imp he was. She held her hands on her hips, staring him down, and soon his grin turned a bit sheepish. She snorted, kept her glare up, and trudged over to the desk. She glanced through the book quickly and then tossed one roughly into his chest.

"Here. It's an account by your great-grandfather about some of the other Order's work and what they did. You may recognize historical names. Best get started—it's a long one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better ways to spend my day off than your imprudent questions and remarks."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like go visit the townspeople or visit the country-side. Maybe take a horse to the trade down not too far from here."

"Might I join you?" he inquired, setting the book aside.

She raised a brow and gestured to the other tomes, "Don't you want to read?"

"When have you ever found me a man fond of reading?" he grinned back.

"It's no wonder you think more with your cock than your head."

"You wouldn't—ah, never mind. I'd rather not be hit. Regardless, right now my _head_ is thinking I would rather spend it doing something fun, and you tend to know where the fun is. Not to mention the road is dangerous—a lovely lady might need a strapping young man to protect her."

"Rather confident when we both know I've still got the most wins between us," she smirked, folding her arms over her chest. He grinned as he came closer, putting his hands on his hip.

"Ah, but I am catching up—quickly, I might add. But must we banter like this? I only ask to tag along and spend time with a friend."

"Pulling _that_ trick now are we? Tsk. _Fine_. I suppose I could use you to ward off people who annoy me. The scar will do some good besides showing where your scruff won't grow."

"My… 'scruff'? You mean my beard? I suppose I should shave it soon."

"For now, keep it—and get ready to ride. I'll meet you at the stable," she sighed, waving her hand and turning to go. She paused, looking back at him, "And behave out there. I'll let Mario know we left, but there may be some kind of trouble. Maybe. Not Templar trouble, but… y'know. Bandits or something. Anyways, I'll get ready and meet you there."

"I look forward to it."

"Oh, and Ezio? I know you decided to move on and all, but _try_ and not flirt with every girl you see, alright? I actually plan to try and find things to buy there and I'd rather not have to keep pulling you away."

"Want me all to yourself?" he winked.

Catherine rolled her eyes, although her cheeks were still warm, "Just meet me at the stable, idiot."

"As you wish," he laughed, and she just shook her head.

**-O-**

"How much farther is it?"

Catherine glanced over at Ezio as they went along the road, their horses moving at a trot. The sun was almost halfway through the sky, thought it was more like eleven or so. They had been traveling for about an hour at most, weaving their way along the path. It had been a long time since she had traveled far, and almost believed it had been since when she first came, but she vaguely remembered going once before. It wasn't too far away—especially not when galloping—but their pace made it take a little longer. That wasn't so bad, though; there were plenty of things to see along the way. Rolling hills, farmers and their families, some traveling merchants, and so forth. Ezio seemed to enjoy it somewhat. Not fully, but enough to not be bored. It helped they exchanged playful banter along the way. She always enjoyed that with him. Mostly.

"Not much longer—see the chimney smoke over the hill? That's the town. There's not much there, but there's some things to trade there and lots of foods from the farm. Mario tends to buy from them if our own crops aren't doing so well. It's still winter right now, but there's some foods still around. That or something like shirts, or jewelry, or some craftsmanship. You could try finding something for Claudia," Catherine shrugged.

"I did not realize there were places like this. I don't even remember coming through any when we came," he replied, peering in the distance where smoke was rising.

"Well, you went off the road most times, right? It was safer for you, so it's not a surprise you missed them."

"So you think they will have something for Claudia? And perhaps Mother?"

She glanced over and saw his solemn look, "Maybe. There's not nearly as much as the city. But I found some nice things. A painting once."

"Mario gave you an allowance?"

"Yeah. We have a bit extra since it's yours, too, so I'm happy to help buy something. He can't give us a whole lot—most goes to the city armaments, but it's enough. C'mon, let's get the last distance covered," she grinned and urged her horse into a canter. Ezio followed after, and it was only a few more minutes before they approached the town.

It wasn't very large, but most of the trade towns on the road never were. At most they were more like villages spotting the countryside that got enough traffic from merchants and travelers that they thrived well enough. The farmlands helped, too, providing produce, although the amount was always far less in the winter months. Crafts became more popular instead, and a quick look showed there were already stalls set up along with small cottage or two that had signs showing the wares they sold. Mostly it was wooden furniture or trinkets, but there were some clothes and a few stone works. It wasn't much as she said, but the biggest trade town was even further away.

"There are quite a few people here for the size," Ezio mused as he dismounted and pulled his hood over his head. She had been surprised to find he'd put on his father's robes when she'd met him at the stables, but he had thought it better his face not to be completely visible—just in case. Catherine figured no one out here would know he was wanted in _Firenze_, be it as himself or as an Assassin, but better safe than sorry.

"Well, some are probably just passing through, too. Remember how we get merchants a few times a month or more? They come through here. Sometimes they get what supplies they can for the road if they're not coming to the city," she explained as she kept hold of her reigns and lead the horse around.

Ezio followed, glancing around a bit uneasily at first, "Ah, right. Do guards mingle around here?"

"Not from the city. They're not big enough to warrant it, and they couldn't afford it, anyways. So you can relax some," she grinned, nudging him a bit playfully. He grinned back, but it was only half-way. She sighed a little. "Really, Ezio. The only dangers this far out from _Firenze_ would be bandits, but even those are pretty small in amount. Mario's men patrol the area, too, so, y'know, you _can_ really relax some out here."

"I know, I know—I just…"

"You worry, I know, but you're not alone out here. I've got your back, and we have our swords on the saddles. You've got your hidden blade, too. I think we're well prepared. So, c'mon. Ease up and smile some. This place is part of _Monteriggioni_—part of your home. Well, temporary home, but you get what I mean, right?"

He chuckled genuinely, nodding, "Yes, yes, I 'get' what you mean. No, it's not _Firenze_… but it's what we have now. It will be home—for now. I will try to relax. I have yet to leave the city out this far until now."

"Well, you haven't had the time to—not with training and all your new reading now," she replied with a light laugh. "Just don't expect to find what you did in _Firenze_. Like I said, it's just simple stuff."

"I find I am becoming quite fond of simple things these days. So. Do you know what they sell here?"

"Let's go find out. I think we have a clothing or at least cloth stall right here. Good afternoon!" the redhead smiled at the shopkeeper—an older woman dressed in a simple gown. She perked up at the sight of them, although she did raise a brow, too. Catherine suspected both for _her_ attire and Ezio's hood. The redhead gestured to her piles of cloth. "We're hoping to find something worth buying today. Perhaps something for his sister—she would be about my age, just a hair shorter, and _loves_ dresses."

"Ah, well I don't have dresses made, but I do have a great deal of cloth. What might be her favorite color?"

"Golds and reds," Ezio replied and stepped closer when the woman showed material with a deep red color embroidered with floral patterns and leaf designs. The gold was much the same, and Catherine could see him contemplating. "I think she would like this—what would you ask?"

"A few dozen florins," the woman replied, and again raised a brow when Catherine was the one to hand her the coins.

"Sounds like a deal. Go ties these to the saddles," the redhead motioned and then turned back to the woman once he went to do so. "We came from _Monteriggioni_—how are things here?"

"Oh! You're that woman some of the men speak of. I thought it was just rumors… but ah, sorry—things are good here. We've have no trouble with bandits and Mario's men have been protecting us. They don't cause trouble—in fact, they're a pleasure to have around."

"That's good to hear. So are there any good places to visit here besides your store?" she grinned back, which got a small laugh from the woman.

"Taking your husband out?" she inquired slyly, and Catherine's face warmed right away as she glanced over at Ezio, hoping he hadn't heard. His grin told her she had.

"He's not my husband," she replied quickly. "He's one of Mario's men and I figured it was time to show him around in case he gets stationed out here."

"Oh, well, of course there's plenty. The tavern is always enjoyed by the men, but there are some trails in the woods hunters or the children take. There are some small ponds here and there and a river, too."

"Sounds good. Thank-you, very much," Catherine nodded and then turned to Ezio now that he was done. "We can check out the other shops, and then I dunno—we can stay at the tavern some or take the long way back through the woods."

He grinned, brow raised, "What of bandits?"

"Don't worry—I'll protect you," she smirked, patting his cheek. He pouted as she bid the woman farewell and brought him to the next few stalls and shops.

Like the woman, they sold basic things. One was for leather and the craft, and another was for wooden furniture and figurines. Another specialized in some simple necklaces, which Ezio had offered to buy for her, but she just noted she had one—his family emblem. Of course, he teased her about that, but she would just smack him and mention it was for safe-keeping and habit. He would just keep on grinning, and she would keep on moving. There wasn't too much of interest, although she had purchased a wooden wolf for her room and then a pretty stone carving that Ezio thought Claudia might like. After that, their funds were starting to dwindle a bit, so they decided on visiting the Tavern to get a small meal. It wasn't crowded at all, and so they were left to their small plate of bread, cheese, a bit of meat, and some beer and ale—Catherine doing so with slight disgust. She had never been a fan of either, but it was generally a safer option than the water, although it seemed to be not as bad in this area. They made small talk while they ate; mostly about going through the woods. Ezio was for it, figuring it would be good to see more of the area and he expressed he had enjoyed adventures in the woods in his childhood when his father took his family on a trip of sorts.

So with that plan in mind, the two found themselves back on their horses, plodding their way through the woods. It was quiet save for the sounds of a few birds in the winter day, and occasional scurrying. The snow from months before had melted a great deal, so the grass was mostly green. The trees were fairly barren, but some leaves remained or were already trying to grow back. There were few clouds in the sky, so it was bright, warm, and soothing. The sound of water running could be heard in the distance, and there was no doubt they might come upon the river on the way. She didn't have a map, but they weren't far off the road, and she knew the direction _Monteriggioni_ was in. It was fine even if they got a little lost—they didn't honestly need to get back until later.

"Pretty different from the city, isn't it?" Catherine chuckled after she realized they had been walking their steeds side-by-side in silence for a while. Ezio perked up from beneath his hood, looking to her expectantly. She repeated her question, and he looked around before nodding.

"Yes, very. I was so used to towering buildings, but out here there are only towering trees and low hills and grass. It is so different, but not in a bad way. It's rather relaxing."

"Yeah, I always thought so, too. Don't get me wrong—climbing all over the city was fun, but there's something about out here in the open space," she hummed, grinning, though paused when a notion came to mind and she looked at him sheepishly. "Not that _Firenze_ wasn't—or, er, didn't have something and all, because it was great and it was your home and… um…"

Ezio laughed, "Don't worry, Catherine, I know what you mean. _Firenze_ will always be where I am from and in my heart, but I will make my home wherever I may go so long as I have family and friends."

Catherine paused, watching him, before smiling, "And here I thought I was going to have to give you a whole speech about that. It's good you figured that out on your own."

"Well, I have had over two months to think and training helps me do so clearly… and then your talks… they help."

"Good, I'm glad. I've been worried about you for a while. Claudia, too, but it seems like you're both doing better," she smiled, and he smiled back.

"We are Auditores—we are a strong family with strong blood. We endure. We _will_ endure."

"I don't doubt it. You and Claudia both are stronger than you know. Your Mother is, too… she just… needs more help."

Ezio frowned sadly, "I just wish I knew _how_."

"We all do. Even Mario. He doesn't say it, but I can tell when he visits her or we mention her. He hates when anyone in his home is upset," she replied hoping she was smiling reassuringly. Ezio looked to her strangely, as if disbelieving. She raised a brow look. "What? What is it?"

He chuckled, "It's just… you always seem to know what's wrong and trying to help. I don't think I know anyone else who is like you except… well, like my father. He was benevolent—tried to see the good in people and help them. You are like that."

Catherine pulled her horse to a stop, and he did the same, looking to her curiously. She just smiled back as she slipped off, and again he copied her. She kept her horse's reigns in her hands as she walked ahead, aiming for the river which was in sight now.

"Catherine?" he asked after a moment.

She glanced to him, "Sorry—I just… I dunno. I'm not sure it's all that. I just try to be a good person and help the people I care about. Your father was much better. I never got to see it, but Mario and some of his men who returned from the city mentioned he would help the people there—keep them safe no matter no matter if they were rich or poor. He protected them, y'know? Kinda like you. More like you, actually."

"What? No, I'm nothing like him. I could never be," the young man scoffed, but she gave him a look.

"Tell me again who was it that helped that little kid who got beat up a few weeks ago, hmm? Who told him to keep his head up and how to fight better?" she smirked, and Ezio chuckled.

"That was nothing."

"Your father would be proud."

He paused, thinking, "You… think so?"

"Yeah. He'd be proud of you and what you're doing—keeping your mother and sister safe."

"I hope so… sometimes I'm still not sure I knew him."

"Just because he worked as an Assassin secretly didn't mean his time with you as a father was a lie. You know that's true. Mario even told you how he boasted about you when you were born and growing up. Not much, of course, but he would write every once and in a while. And, hey, did he honestly ever make you think he _wasn't _proud of you?" she asked as they came to the water's edge. He paused again there, expression thoughtfully before he pushed off his hood. He crouched down beside the river, scooped some into his hand to drink, and then ran it through his hair.

"Only when I did something very stupid, I think. You're right, though—as always. Why are you always right? If it wasn't so helpful I might find it annoying," he grinned at her.

She smirked back, "Because a woman is _always_ right—you might want to remember that."

"Oh? Giving me advice on how to handle a woman? I think I am more than capable."

"I mean, if you don't want advice about what women want from a _woman_ that's fine by meee," she hummed, shrugging as she, too, scooped some water to drink.

He laughed, "Oh, no, by all means, do educate me. I will need it when I chase after those lovely maids that visit the city."

"Oh good God, you're really going to do it," she snorted, shaking her head, although she was laughing. Ezio just shrugged.

"What? Should I not?"

"Well, you're still not really over Cristina, right?" she asked, looking to him seriously. He frowned, not replying at first, and rubbed the back of his head. She sighed, ignoring a slight pang in her chest. "See? You're not. I mean… look, if you want to go around flirting, sure, go ahead… but no woman is going to want to compete and be second best to someone you can't get over. I know I wouldn't want to. And it's okay if you need more time. Besides, I think the women of _Italia_ could use a break from your 'charms'."

He chuckled, albeit a bit sadly, "Perhaps you are right. I admit, as much I wish to see her most nights… I do _need_ to move on. And I _have _come to realize it was the right decision. You have said the same, and I've had plenty of time to think on it."

"Just… don't try and court someone for the wrong reasons. It wouldn't be fair to them _or_ you," she replied softly, and he just mumbled a quiet "I know". She watched him a bit longer, kneeling there at the river side and staring far away into the distance. He was there beside her, but she knew his mind was elsewhere. She wished he could really come to terms with thing—to move on, but he wasn't there yet. A part of her feared he never would be, but it was like he said: he was an Auditore. He would endure. She just hoped he didn't hold on to her forever, and it was a notion that confused her.

"Catherine," he spoke up, and she flinched, having been caught in her thoughts. He didn't seem to notice as he continued, looking at her, "how is it you know to say these things? I have often tried to figure it out myself, but I can never fully grasp it."

She flushed with embarrassment, "Um… well, I dunno. I guess I just… think a lot? And, I dunno. I just try and imagine what I would want to hear if I were in your situation, and it seems to be what people need to hear. I guess. I just… I dunno?"

"Calm yourself—I meant nothing by it," he snickered as he stood back up. "Although, I have to wonder—is it that or your own experience? I never have properly asked about your past—the real one, mind you."

"Uh—'real one'?" she asked, heart racing briefly. Had he found out about her somehow? Did he overhear her and Mario discuss her true origins?

"The one where you are from England because of the Order and not your banker father," he chuckled, and she had to work hard not to sigh with relief. Instead, she laughed as she stood back up, wiping her hand on her pants.

"Oh. _That_ real one. Well, it was kind of boring? I didn't really do much training at all—besides like those fighting skills and stuff you remember? Yeah, well, that was about it, and now I'm here."

He laughed, "That is _hardly_ anything. I doubt you were that boring. Come, tell me—I promise I won't laugh."

"Which means you will," she huffed, and he just laughed some more. She sighed, rolling her eyes, and mounted up. "Alright, alright. Yeesh. So pushy. What do you want to know?"

"What do _I_ want to know?" he inquired as he followed suit, and let her lead on. "I suppose… what of your family? Were they as you said the first time?"

"Um… kinda. I had a Mom and Dad and all. Lived in a nice house with two dogs and the works in a place that wasn't city, but not country, either. Mom did most motherly things but she started to teach a little. Dad worked for… well, the Order, and he did some… stuff for cover. I never really understood his work, but he did a good job with it. He told me a bit about the Order, and I think he wanted me to train properly in the England once, but that was waylaid I guess? So I didn't learn much until I was sent here at nineteen. Pretty late, but hey—better late than never, right?"

Ezio smiled a bit wryly, "That's one way of putting it. Do you still write your parents? I don't see you write much, though…"

"They died," she replied after a bit, and when she saw his pained, sympathetic look she continued, "It was a while ago—years. I've had way more time than you to figure it all out, so don't worry. Although, I guess maybe that's a reason I know, yeah?"

It was a lie, of course, and she hated herself for saying so even if Mario had told her to do it—that it was safer. Or, well, it was a partial lie, but the guilt remained, and not just for lying to him. Her mother was very much so alive, and still waiting for her back in the castle. She hadn't thought about it in so long, and her guilt grew. When would she go back? Could she even go back at all? She hated not knowing. She hated having distracted herself—perhaps purposefully—to not think about it.

"I am still sorry for your loss. If I had known…"

"Your sorry is enough, and it's not like you could do anything. They've been gone long enough it doesn't bother me all that much. So don't worry. Besides, I'm a big, tough girl who can whoop you," she smirked right back, and he laughed.

"Still, you have my sympathies. Did it take you long to…?"

"Come to terms? Kind of. I kept myself busy—like you're doing. It helps a lot. But, yeah—I had things to keep me busy and I learned a bit about the Order not long after, so I had that, too. I think they were prepping me, but my parents died about when I was sixteen, I think. Might have been fifteen, I lose track, but you get what I mean. I was given to the Order's care. Four or three years later, I end up at your door, knowing a lot more than you did, but still trying to figure out what I was doing. I actually didn't know for sure until I came here."

"Sounds familiar," he mused humorously, and she grinned in reply.

"Funny how that works. Seems like you're doing okay, too, even after I ask, which I will keep doing—just so you know."

"I think I would have it no other way, although now you must know I will ask the same of you. I have been a terrible friend not to."

She waved it off, "Don't worry about me, dummy. _You're_ the one dealing with learning your dad was an Assassin and losing him and your brothers and getting used to Mario and working with your sister and mother. I had it _waaaaay_ easier."

"Even so, it is only fair."

"Ezio, you do plenty by just talking at night and training with me. Honestly, you don't have to do more," she chuckled, but he waved her off this time.

"Do not try and get out of this, kitty-'Cat. I will worry if I like, and I would hardly be a proper man if I did not inquire into the state of a lovely lady."

She flushed slightly, shaking her head, "Oh, good Lord, don't start that cheesy talk again. You know I hated it back in _Firenze_. And don't use that nickname!"

He raised a devilish brow, "Oh? As I recall you quite liked it. You even laughed."

"A _few times_! Uuuugh you're still impossible!"

"_I'm_ impossible!? You are the stubborn woman!"

"Only because I have to be when dealing with dumb little boys like you!"

"I am _not_ a little boy!"

"You're three years younger than me! You'll always be a little boy!"

"I am _seventeen_! I am no boy and—wait… _three _years? I thought you were nineteen?"

She grinned, "Twenty now. Birthday was a little over a month ago. So, yes, you're still a little boy."

"You should have told me! We would have celebrated! Perhaps even found you a suitor!" he smirked, but she just groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, how about you _don't_. Besides, I've had plenty of people flirt with me here—they're just not my type and I'm busy training. I've no time for such things. _You_ don't either, but you're a troublemaker."

"Oh? And you're _not_?" he mused.

She gave him a look, "Not compared to you."

"Perhaps—but I think you are more trouble than you say. Ottavio has said as much."

"Ottavio? Oh, that son of a biiitch. He's making fun of me behind my back isn't he!?" she growled, though without malice. Ezio, of course, just grinned more.

"A little. He's quite fond of you."

She gave him another look, eyes narrowed, "Don't you _dare_ try and set me up with him. He's a big brother at most."

"Who said anything about that? Besides, there are far better options," he purred, moving his horse a bit closer.

"What? Like _you_?" she snorted, smirking. He laughed as he grasped at his chest.

"You are so cruel with your words! I thought you wished to help me get better!"

"Oh, but you will—with tough love," she winked.

"Ah, but the way to truly heal a man is with some sweet 'succor'," he purred once more, leaning towards her.

"The only 'succor' you need is another butt whooping to knock some sense into you," she snapped, but then she grinned and suddenly shoved him so that he nearly fell off his horse with a yelp. One leg came free, and he had to grasp the saddle horn and the horse's mane to keep from hitting the ground. Catherine, meanwhile, set her steed off at a canter with a laugh. Ezio righted himself soon enough and took after her. When she noticed him catching up, she spurred her horse faster. She had gone riding a lot in her childhood—taking lessons—and gone on plenty of trail rides on vacation, so it wasn't too hard to run the horse through the woods, and managed to keep ahead until she figured her horse might want to rest. Only then did she slow, and the young man caught up. They were almost to the edge of the woods—hills and the road were visible, and in the distance was the towers of _Monteriggioni_'s walls.

"You are a cruel woman, you know," the young man pouted as they breached the tree-line.

Catherine smirked, "It's a gift."

"Indeed," he grumbled, but was smiling a moment later. His gaze wandered to the city as they made for the road. As always, it was fairly empty, so it was just the two of them and the sight of the tall, stone walls. He made a thoughtful sound before looking to the redhead. "Do you… ever wish to go back—to England? To your home?"

'_You have no idea,'_ she sighed mentally, but shrugged for him as he replied, "Maybe sometimes, but I've been gone almost a year, and, really, it wasn't home after my parents died. Here—_Monteriggioni—_is more my home. I have friends here, and Mario is… well, he's Mario. He makes you feel welcome, and the people are good and kind. This place…. It's my home now, I guess. It could be yours, too."

Ezio chuckled, "That would be nice, but you know I cannot stay. I admit I am growing fond, though."

"You never know. It's a good place—friends, your family, and it's secure. You wouldn't have to run, and Mario could teach you everything about the Assassins and more. You're already a good fighter, too," she replied, but kept her next words to herself when there was a look of discomfort in his features.

"I… I don't know…"

"Sorry," she spoke quickly, smiling apologetically. "I'm not trying to pressure you—it's up to you. I'm just… y'know. I'm just saying you can have a home here. Sorry—I won't talk about it anymore, if you don't want…"

"It's alright—I understand why you said it. You are right in a way, but… I will need more time to think on this… and I need to become stronger first. But… yes, I would not mind if you did not bring it up much," he smiled back, but she knew it was forced. She bit her lip with embarrassment and shame, and could only bring herself to nod back.

The rest of the ride back was fairly quiet, although they began to talk some more towards the end. It was jovial as always, although Catherine still felt a bit guilty. Mostly, because she did want him to stay. Of all the months she'd been here, it was the ones that Ezio was here too that she felt the happiest and most at ease. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them all to stay. She just wished he would see it was good here, too.

He had asked her not to say more, though, so the redhead kept her lips sealed on the subject as they finally returned to the walls and gave the horses to the stable hand. He was pleased the beast's had finally been tired, and promised to have their things delivered to the _Villa_. The two of them were ready for more rest by then, and Ezio expressed interest in reading some more—in between flirting with the few woman that noticed them. Catherine just rolled her eyes and would go on, forcing him to run to catch him and tease her after. She would just make quips back and they were laughing by the time they reached the _Villa_. It would have gone on, but, to their surprise, both Claudia and Mario were standing in the main hall, apparently waiting. Both parties were happy to see one another and struck conversation at once; mentioning how their day had gone, and how they were enjoying their stay, and what they might like for a dinner tonight. It was simple talk, really, but Catherine couldn't help noticing how at ease they all looked. Even Claudia seemed to enjoy listening to her Uncle, although she would occasionally show her annoyance or frustration or pout and huff. Ezio, certainly, was joyful.

It was then Catherine decided she would be selfish. She wouldn't talk about the issue like he asked, but she was going to try and make him see. He was happy here. Oh, it was nowhere near as happy as back in _Firenze_, but they were happy still. Claudia was happy. Mario was happy. Perhaps one day Maria could be happy if she healed. They had friends here, they were protected, and the city folk had welcomed them well enough. In time, they would all be seen as the same. Ezio and his family could have a real life here, and she could have her friend and people she knew. It was selfish—perhaps overly so, but she couldn't help it. She wanted them to stay, and so decided she would do what she had to.

'_Just give it time, and you'll see, Ezio. You, too, Claudia. This place can be a home for you,' _Catherine smiled softly as she watched them, and for once she didn't feel so guilty.

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**20 **\- _End_

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**_TMWolf:_**_ And that's chapter 20! More of a set up chapter really for things to come, but also some building between Catzio and making more setting! Figured there are towns here and there, and that there's some good forest area around the city somewhere. But, yeah. Mostly just building up to more stuff as we keep moving through the timeline, and hold on to your britches again, guys. Some nasty/crazy stuff is coming, and it's going to get rough. Like, real rough. What really sucks is that it seems to happen so quick, but it's a long time in-story. Ah, the troubles of in-universe time vs real life time._

_At least I'm not as bad as Tessof the d'Urbervilles where you wonder what the hell just happened with Alec and then suddenly there's a baby. Like. Whut? At least that's what happened to me and my entire English class during the first read, ha ha. But, yes, so things may seem to happen fast, but in-universe it's been a while. Otherwise, this story would be like 50x longer, ha ha._

_Anyways, crazy stuff coming. Get ready ;p_


	22. We Build Then We Break

**TMWolf: **_Whelp, back on schedule! I'm actually looking for a job, though, so if I manage to snag one the schedule may change, but until then it's still good to go. In fact, I wrote two chapters this week, ha ha. Anyways, we're on track, and this is an INTENSE chapter. Some crazy shit goes down, and it does not get better easy. You'll see ;)_

_As usual, how canon characters are written is based on my own interpretation._

_This chapter's song is from The Fray - We Build Then We Break._

_I always enjoy hearing your thoughts, so feel free to drop a comment or let me know if something is off or anything else! Oh, and feel free to ask questions if something is confusing, but just know I won't give out spoilers! ;)_

**_P.S. ABOUT A MONTH HAS GONE BY_**

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**21 **–_ We Build Then We Break_

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**April 2, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine grimaced as she braced her blade against Ezio's blow. He was strong—stronger than she liked—so it was hard. He knew it, too. There was a slight curve of his lip upward as he got her knee to bend. She scowled, refusing to give up. Though she couldn't push him back, she did force his blade to the right so she could ram her shoulder into his gut. He grunted painfully as he staggered back, but caught her blade as she arced her arms and swung from above. He didn't have enough momentum to push back and so side-stepped. He wasn't smirking or even smiling now, and she took some joy in that. However, she set that small bit of glee aside as she went after him. She spun on her heels in the dirt, slamming her blade into his, which he'd brought up to defend his side. It bounced off with a loud clang and he winced slightly. She imagined his hands stung like hers did, but he didn't show it any further as he came after her in kind.

The redhead growled as he suddenly grabbed her sleeve and pulled while his sword arm aimed to "cut" her. He would never fully make the blow, although even if he did the blades were dulled for training. At most you might get a shallow cut, but generally just a thick, dark bruise. Regardless, she refused to let that happen. Though she didn't want to, she released her blade to free up her other hand and grab his wrist as he brought his weapon down over her. She then curled her other wrist to grab his in turn. She twisted once more to place her hips so they were almost perfectly perpendicular to him and also so that her leg was behind his. She pulled hard and the results were as she wanted: his knee hit her leg, causing him to tumble over. Ducking down slightly, she pulled his arm over her head so it didn't hit her. She made sure to keep her vice grip as he fell to his side and dug in her heels so she didn't go down with him. Gritting her teeth, she squeezed her fingers into his skin, and quickly shoved a boot up against his throat. It wouldn't choke him, but the pressure was meant to signify she had won.

She felt him struggle—felt his wrist and arm squirming to free themselves. He got his legs beneath him and tried to kick up, but when that failed he tried to swing his body to hit her legs out from underneath her. She just shifted quickly, pressing more on his throat. He made a garbled sound before he finally stopped, scowled, and tried to grab for his sword, but it had dropped too far away so he ceased his movements. Catherine let out a sigh of relief, finally releasing her grip, and removed her boot. She held out her hand to help him up and he took it.

"Looks like this is your win—using those ridiculous moves of yours," he grumbled, pouting some.

She chuckled back, "Well, nothing else works."

Unfortunately, that was the truth. She was honestly surprised she _had_ won. It hadn't been easy, though; no, she was sweating profusely and had more than a few scuff marks and plenty of dirt smudged into her clothes and skin. Her make-shift bun was out of sorts, though it was a quick fix, and she was panting hard. It pained her to know just months ago she had never been pushed this much—not by Ezio, anyways. Yet, even after such a short time he was already a proficient fighter. He excelled in most everything he tried, and it was only her quick thinking and movement, flexibility, and a bit of knowledge of body physics that really helped her win. She just didn't have the strength or endurance to go as long as he did yet. Hell, if she hadn't pulled that move he _would _have won soon enough. She felt exhausted; her muscles and lungs were dealing with the temporary burn, and she was starving now. Her only consolation was that he was panting and sweating just as profusely as she was.

Still, it burned knowing he was getting stronger than her so fast. She'd been at this for almost a year now, and yet just a little over three months and he was essentially her better. Even outside the training ring he was. Oh, it was her damned pride, and she knew it was only reasonable he would be stronger and faster, but still—it hurt.

"That was quick thinking on your part, Catherine. You overcame your weaknesses to take him down—well done," Mario nodded, but it did a little to soothe her wounded pride. "Unfortunately, your strength and endurance are lacking. I fear this may be due to your nature, and so we must do what we can to overcome this. We will need to work more on your speed so you can take advantage of your opponent's openings."

"Right," she nodded, but whatever alleviation she had gotten was scorched away yet again. Despite all her work, she was still too weak. Oh, she wasn't fool enough to think she would ever be stronger than the other men—they were all far more muscular and could easily push her around. However, she had hoped she would have had enough skills and abilities to overcome her disadvantage. Yet, she could barely beat Ezio now. Some of the slower men she could out-do, but even then it was more luck.

"Ezio, you were carless. You have strength and skill, but you are not watching what you or your opponent are doing. You think strength alone and swinging a blade will do you good, but you forget to use your arms and legs in other ways as Catherine does. You would do well to make note of how she beats you and incorporate it if you can," their commander continued, and like her the young man nodded.

"Understood," he replied and Mario looked pleased.

"Ah, but well done. Both of you. You are both improving—especially you, Ezio. You have already come a long way quickly."

Ezio grinned as he came forward and set his blade against the rail, "It is only with your help, Uncle. Will I be able to move on to the next training soon?"

"Oh, no," the older man laughed, much to his nephew's disappointment. "You still have much to learn with the blade. You have not yet been taught to properly parry with it, either. But perhaps we may start that tomorrow. I will have you do so with Catherine—she is learning that as well."

"But we have spent so long on sword sparring—surely I am ready to learn something more?"

Mario chuckled, shaking his head lightly, "Ah, you still know so little of _true_ battle, my boy. You wish to defend yourself and your family… then you must learn all you can, and you have not even scratched far beneath the surface. I understand your eagerness, but you must be patient. You cannot rush this—not if you wish to be as great as you can be."

"…I understand. I will have to try harder to win quickly," Ezio sighed, and then looked to Catherine. "I trust we will help one another?"

She blinked in surprise, "Hmm? Oh. Oh—right. Yeah. Of course. I need someone more my style anyways. Alessandro is too much strength and not enough skill."

"Then even more reason to have you train together. You both push each other well, too. Yes… we will begin parrying tomorrow and learning to disarm your opponent proper. For now, well done, and do as you see fit—you are finished for today," Mario smiled at them both, and they bowed their heads respectfully. The older man headed off then, and they were alone since Ottavio hadn't joined them this round—he'd left early to get food and tend to the men. Apparently there had been some ruckus among the troops, but it was taken care of. Catherine didn't like the sound of it, but she hadn't heard anything of it and neither had Ezio.

"Well, I guess it's time for our run?" she inquired, squashing her concerns, earlier jealousy, and personal shame. Surprisingly, Ezio gave her a sheepish grin as he shook his head.

"I must apologize—I have made plans with Claudia tonight. She wishes to make me 'proper' clothes befitting my status and not these 'rags'. I told her I did not need them, but she was insistent. I am thus preoccupied tonight. Forgive me?"

She laughed, gesturing towards the _Villa_, "Go on then. It's about time you two did something together. I'll go about the roofs by myself and see you later. Oh—do you need anything from the Doctor or blacksmith? I can get it on the way back."

"Hmm… not today, but thank-you," he chuckled as he waved and then trotted off.

Catherine watched him go until he was out of sight and then sighed deeply. She touched at her right side, frowning when she felt a pained throb. Ezio had gotten a good hit on her—it would hurt for the night, and the bruise would remain longer. Most of all, though, it would serve as a yet another reminder of how he had become better than her. She knew she shouldn't let it bother her so much; she also knew she was a prideful thing—almost sinfully so. She supposed it was mostly because, for her, it felt as though all her hard work was practically worthless in comparison. Certainly, she couldn't help feeling jealousy towards him and she wanted to hate him some, but she couldn't. It wasn't his fault, and she knew in her heart her concern wasn't true. Unfortunately, she knew the only way to be rid of it was to get better. Even more unfortunate, she had a feeling it would be a long, long time before she could get there.

Sighing again—very deeply this time—she ran a hand through her hair and wished that was enough to get rid of her anxieties. She was a worrier, though. Even Ezio had said she worried too much, but this was worse, and she was even less sure she could help herself. Certainly not as well as she believed she was helping Ezio and Claudia. Perhaps if she told the young man what weighed on her mind he could repay her kindness, but her pride was _that_ awful. That, and her shame. She probably shouldn't have felt it, but she couldn't help. She had to do this herself to be rid of it, though, so she would keep her mouth shut and trudge on like always. It was better when she did things on her own, anyways. Mostly.

"Oh, just shut up brain, and let's get going," she growled as she smacked her cheeks, trying to get herself together. She hopped over the training ring rail, paused to nod her head at two men who came by, and headed for the side wall to start her run.

She went at it with an increased vigor. She wanted to exhaust herself tonight—to be too tired to think. She knew if she didn't her thoughts would go elsewhere. Already they lingered on the memory of the night Ezio and his family had come. Flickers of images the Clock had shown her came back; memories of the city threatened to return. Though they were the happy ones, they brought mostly pain for the loss and for the thought she could have saved them. It plagued her in the dark of night when she was left to think and in moments like these when she was reminded of her own weakness. So she ran as hard as she could and didn't care when she stumbled and fell. She didn't care when the tiles scraped through her white undershirt or even tore through the material or garnered light red stains. She just needed to be tired.

Catherine panted hard as she crossed through the city, leaping across roofs and climbing up walls. She fell once more and lingered briefly to be rid of the sting in her ankle, but it was gone soon enough and she continued on. Despite her efforts, her mind only settled a little, so she tried focusing on other things—mostly on what had passed and what was to come. Another month had gone by, and Ezio and Claudia becoming more comfortable in the city and getting along with the people there. Dea was especially happy to have the Auditore's daughter around, and the two had formed a friendship. Claudia had also become much better at stitching and tended to complain less about living here. Oh, she insisted they would eventually go home, but it was seldom and more of a wishful want. Ezio, like-wise rarely spoke of when they would leave, so focused on his training. There were occasional mentions, and she sometimes saw maps of places or he would talk to merchants about the best roads to take to a harbor, but not too much. She didn't dare think he thought he might stay then, but she did what she could to help him see this place was better.

Maria was another story. It had been months now and there was little, if any change. Catherine could barely recall her leaving the _Villa_, although they had invited the priest to visit and console her. They hoped that brought some comfort to her, but they could never be sure. The priest continued to come regardless, and Maria would speak her soft prays to him, but none of them knew what to do. The Doctor had no medicine to help her, either. At the very least she _was_ eating more and Ghita mentioned she had begun to watch the city from her window, though her gaze always seemed far away. It was better than kneeling and praying constantly, so they would have to take what they could get. As always, she and the Auditore children were at a loss for what to do for her.

Beyond that, the Auditore's were doing well, and Catherine enjoyed their presence. Ezio, especially—as always. They continued to meet on the roofs every so often and speak of things, and it was a comfort she enjoyed. It was enjoyed even more for the fact she knew he would have her back if she needed it, and she hated admitting she did. Thought things were good for the siblings, her situation seemed worse. It was bothersome enough she was being outdone by Ezio and other "novices" who might come after—she sometimes wondered why Mario hadn't kicked her out for not being as good—but she still had trouble with Emilio. The bastard refused to let her be, and his "pranks" had become worse. A few of the other men occasionally joined in, but she was rarely far from Ezio, Ottavio, or those men she was friendly with, which waylaid their antics. Still, she'd come away with some bruises now and silent threats—death glares or sneers or clenched fists. She had seen him try to fight her more, but that had been denied by Mario and the fact she trained almost exclusively with Ezio now. Rumors again sprung up, but none were ever proven true, so only a few kept hold of them. It was an annoyance mostly, but annoyances could become dangerous if she gave them any more room to talk.

Not that there _was_ anything to talk about. No, she and Ezio were firmly friends, and besides; though he might tease her, he never really flirted with her. Not like with the city women. Oh, she'd seen how he was. She been _with_ him some of the times, and he always did all he could to make them giggle or ask about their husbands or fiancés, which they would mention not having. Of course they were swayed by his "charms", which she found hilarious and so was confused by how so many girls batted their eyelashes at him. Mostly she just hated how annoyed she got, although it _was_ reasonable to be annoyed when he constantly stopped and flirted with everyone he could. She imagined he would have been having lots of "fun" with them if his schedule weren't so full of training and studying. Frankly, she was surprised he still bothered to do roof talk with her when he had the "lovely ladies of _Monteriggioni_" to talk with.

Catherine had to pause as that flicker of annoyance came forward again. She sighed between her pants and shook her head. That feeling was becoming aggravating and she was feeling it a lot more than she liked. She figured it was because he was flirting more and had apparently _really _come to terms with giving up the Cristina woman, although he would still talk about her on the roof sometimes. She liked to believe she was just annoyed he was going off track or not focusing, but she wasn't sure of much anything anymore. Of course, that made it worse, and he made it even more so with his damned teasing. It was such a dumb game, but he loved it, and while she enjoyed getting little comebacks at him, he was better at the game than she thought. It was so much easier when Federico was there to back her up. Now she had only her own wit, and it wasn't nearly as good as she thought.

"So much for clearing my head," the redhead groaned as she came to the last roof and sat down on the higher ledge. Her body tingled with the exhaustion and her chest lifted and dropped rapidly as she started to cool down. Thankfully, that never took long, and she was breathing steadily soon enough. If only her mind would do the same, but it still ran wild with all the things she thought about. In fact, another came to mind, and it was one she hated to think about the most.

The Clock.

Pulling the device out, she ran her gloved thumb along the surface, dragging it atop the single dial. At this point she'd read almost every book in the _Villa_ and there was nothing. She had absolutely no information on it, and no myths of Gods of time helped. There was nothing on the man, either, although she hated realizing that she could only vaguely recall him and his words. At most she only remembered being told to help "the mark", and she knew it was the Assassins, but now she wasn't sure _who_ that was anymore. She had believed it to be Giovanni, but he was gone, so who was it then? Ezio? But he didn't want to be an Assassin. Hell, he'd finally come to terms with it and was really diving into learning about it. So it couldn't be him. Was it Mario then? He wasn't an assassin-Assassin, but he was a part of it and it was his heritage, too. Yet, she got no inclination like she had with Giovanni. So _who_? How? _What_ was she supposed to do?

Groaning, she rubbed her brow and wished, as always, it would work for her. She didn't understand why it wouldn't do what she needed when she wanted it to. It only seemed to work when it felt like it, which was the worst possible times. She didn't understand. Why show her all those images and then do nothing more? Had she failed? Was that it? Had she failed to save Giovanni—the mark she was supposed to help—and so there was nothing more for her to do? Did that mean she was stuck here? Could she never go home? Would she never see her mother again?

The thought devastated her. She might be _stuck_ here. She might be here in the Renaissance for the rest of her life. Oh, she'd become inured to the life-style, but it still wasn't her home, and to think that her mother would be left alone, wondering where the last of her family was; it burned her. What could she do, though? Nothing, that's what. She had no power. She could work and train as much as she wanted, but nothing could give her the power to go back in time except the Clock, but there was no way it would work now. She had failed. This was her punishment.

Sighing depressingly, Catherine put the Clock away. She was almost tempted to just throw it away finally, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. She would always hold on to the hope she could go back even if she had failed. She was a pitiful creature in that way. Always hoping even when she shouldn't. It was ironic really; she always told herself never to hope, and yet she always did.

"Well, let's see if I can't _sleep_ the thoughts away," she groaned as she stood up and slipped back down to the ground. She rolled her shoulders and neck to get the cricks out and made her way towards the _Villa_ through the main area. It was dark now, so the torches gave decent light, but few people were out. As such, she was surprised when a familiar voice called her name. She paused, blinking, and turned to find the Doctor outside his shop, closing it up. She raised a curious brow as she came over, "Evening, 'Doc. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I could use a hand if you would be so kind as to lend it. As in, you will for all the aid I've given you," the man hummed with a wry grin. Catherine chuckled in kind and looked to the small satchel by his feet. The Doctor chuckled back. "I'm still closing up shop, but I need a delivery to the little family in that corner set of homes—the one with the little girl with rosy cheeks, dark hair? You know them? Yes? Good. The winter was hard for her, and she's been pale lately, so their mother asked for some medicine. I would like you to deliver it to them while I close up. Come back to see me after—they'll be giving you payment."

"Sounds easy enough," she nodded and gently picked up the sack. She could hear the jingle of vials inside. She smirked slightly, "Do I get a free check-up for doing this?"

He gave her a look, "This is repayment for that hurt elbow a few days ago. You still owe me for everything else."

"Geez, you're a stickler, 'Doc—but I'll do it just for you. You know how much I and all the others love you," the redhead laughed, but the man only scoffed as he adjusted his mask's goggles.

"It is hard to tell with all the cursing you lot throw at me. Never have I had to deal with such wailing whelps. Can't stand even the sight of a small needle."

"I promise we appreciate your touch—just like your wife!" she replied as she back-stepped, heading towards the near alley.

"You will not if you don't get going!" he shouted back, always a bit touchy about the woman he'd married. He was protective—even towards Catherine when she'd finagled it out of him somehow. He was very much so in love with her, and preferred her safe in their home and not dealing with the trouble of the city. She was apparently the sickly type, which is why no one ever saw her much. It was kind of funny how he would get flustered about her, though, despite his awful bedside manner.

Catherine respected his privacy, however—as did everyone else—and left with a snicker on her face. She glanced back at one point and noticed the Doctor's focus further down. No doubt some city-folk, and so she just shrugged and kept going. She knew the path to the house well enough, although she hadn't been to their house much. She'd run by it, though, and seen the young girl. She was maybe ten, but had dark hair and fair complexion whenever she saw her. She seemed sweet, and her parents were nice so it was a shame she was getting sick.

The redhead paused as she reached a crossroads of sorts, trying to recall the right way. It took a moment, but she remembered they had two torches on the arch leading to their set of homes, so she turned right and made for the corner. It was one of the smaller houses, slightly boarded up, but not terribly so. It was no doubt as quaint as any other building here besides those on the main path and the _Villa_, but it was still nice and homely. The people were, too, and the father was delighted to see her there with the satchel full of medicines.

"How is she?" Catherine inquired gently, glancing inside, but she could not see her or the mother.

The father smiled a bit weakly, "In bed, but these medicines will help. The Doctor is very good. Of course you would know that—you do all the fighting and such. But, ah, I'm rambling. I'm no doubt keeping you, too. My apologies. Here, give this to the Doctor. Give him our thanks as well. And thank-you, of course. Walk back safely."

"Thank-you, too, and no problem. I'm happy to help. I hope she feels better soon," the redhead smiled back, slipping his coins into her pocket to keep them safe. She waved to the father before turning and heading back the way he came. She considered visiting the young girl more, but thought better of it. She didn't really know them all that well, and they probably didn't like many people near their daughter right now—fearful others might make her sick. It was a nice thought, though.

Catherine came to the cross-roads again and did a quick mental recall of the way she'd come. She'd gone right and so turned left. She barely got four steps before something slammed hard into her face. Stars filled her vision and she gasped in pain as she hit the ground. Instinct was the only thing that made her stagger up as blood dribbled from her nose. She could feel it and taste it when the liquid got into her mouth. It was too dark and her vision to blurry to see who her attacker was. She felt them, though, as another blow hit her right in the stomach. The air shot out of her lungs, and her stomach heaved but only bile came out. She collapsed to her knees, clutching at her stomach while her head braced against the ground. She made a pained, garbled sound as she curled into herself.

Her hair was grabbed too roughly and used to pull her to her feet. Again a fist slammed into her stomach, and she would have collapsed a second time had she not been held up by her hair, and had she not been shoved into the near wall. Things hurt. A lot of things. Mostly her stomach and face. It was a little hard to focus even as a face emerged in the darkness, lit by a torch's orange light, but she would have recognized it anywhere. She cursed silently.

Emilio.

And he wasn't alone.

Two men were with him. She recalled them from the Barracks. She didn't know their names, but she knew they were his "henchmen". They followed him around and helped in on his pranks. It seemed they were helping with worse now. The larger of the two held her by the hair and kept her shoulder pressed into the wall, pinning her. The other kept the torch, revealing them to her. She thought she saw a flicker of pity, but it was only the flicker of the flame. Thought they bore no malice like in Emilio's dark eyes, there was no sympathy or regret. They didn't care for her—they didn't care he had done this or her blood was on Emilio's knuckles.

"You don't belong here," the man spoke, his voice low but threatening and dangerous. She met his gaze, but wished she hadn't. It was terrifying. Even more terrifying than the situation she was in. Three men against one woman? Already beaten and bleeding and in the dark of night? In a corner of the area? She should scream. She tried to. She opened her mouth, but then his scarred hand grabbed her throat. She gasped for air, but it was hard. She tried to grab at his face, but the other man gripped her arm and pinned it, too. Emilio smirked slightly, no doubt assured of himself, and why wouldn't he be? She was powerless. She was frightened. She couldn't get away, though—not like before.

"A woman has no place among us—especially one who does not bother to hide it," he continued, sneering now and squeezing slightly while his other hand grasped her white under shirt's collar and pulled. It ripped, exposing her scarred collar. Were it not for her vest, she imagined it would have shown more. Catherine tried to struggle, but their grips were too strong. Emilio brought his face close and she could smell the mix of ale and something foul. "And _especially_ a bitch without a mind to know when to leave. I warned you. I showed you what is done to wenches who don't return to where they belong. You've hid behind Mario and that little bastard of yours, but they're not here for you now. You're alone, and when I am done with you… you will remember your place and what your kind are for."

He removed his hand, but before she could scream for help he struck her again, in the jaw. It didn't crack, but blood pooled into her mouth and splattered some on her torn shirt. Despite his words and the blow, she gathered what courage she could and spat into his face. He snarled as he wiped the glob from his cheek, hell burning in his eyes as if he were the Devil himself.

"Keep her still and I might leave you what's left," he spoke again, and his tone struck an even deeper fear into her heart. She struggled in force then, not caring she couldn't get away or that Emilio raised his arm to strike her once more. She braced herself, expecting pain and worse—much worse; the kind of worse she had kept locked away deep in her mind and prayed would never happen.

"Do not strike her again, Emilio."

Catherine's eyes widened, as did her attackers, whom spun around to find another mercenary. She knew him to be Marsilio, one of the veteran men. Beyond him was the Doctor, and though she could not tell, she liked to think his face was stern and furious like the mercenary man. Emilio curled his lip, but did not continue his attack.

"Both of you, release her," Marsilio continued, and the two men obeyed. Catherine wanted to feel shameful for collapsing down, unable to hold herself up, but she was in too much pain in body and mind to care. "Now leave, and I may not inform Mario of your involvement."

There was a long pause before the two men left, and she heard Emilio snarl something cruel under his breath. He hadn't moved, though, and she worried the man might try something, but the Doctor was there, too. Surely he wouldn't.

"Emilio, Mario will hear of this. You know the rules—we do not strike our own except for in the ring," her savior continued, his voice fierce and dangerous. Catherine blearily looked up at her attacker, and saw he wanted to refuse—perhaps even continue his assault.

"She is _not_ one of _us_! She has no place here! Mario should never have let her in! She is a weak whore who dishonors and embarrasses us!" he hissed, but Marsilio and the Doctor stood strong.

"That is not for you to decide. You can either leave the city now or wait for your judgement tomorrow. Either way, Mario will know of this and you will face your punishment like a man—or are you as weak as you claim her to be, and twice as cowardly?"

Emilio snarled again, but he said no more. He looked back at her, which sent a shudder through her body. She worked hard to suppress it, leaning there against the wall in a wretched mess, but she imagined he saw. He was in no mood to smirk, though—not when his victory had been taken from him. Instead, his fingers clenched into tight fists, and he charged off, making sure to nearly ram into Marsilio's shoulder. The man watched her attacker go, and relief rushed through her. It took everything she could to not break in front of them as the Doctor rushed over.

"Good God… Catherine, here, let me see… damn him… I should have acted sooner. I saw him and his goons staring and I didn't think anything of it until they started to follow. I went to get help, but it took too long to get him," he growled as he touched at her chin to examine her cheek and nose. "It's not broken. Bruised badly and a busted lip and perhaps a cut nose, but not broken. What else did he do? Where else did he hit you?"

"My—my stomach," she croaked, and hated how hoarse she sounded. "P-punched…"

"Choked you as well? And… more?" he asked gently as he looked to her neck and reluctantly tilted his head down towards her shirt. She reluctantly nodded to the choking, but pulled her shirt up some when she shook her head at that. The Doctor cursed, shaking his head, too, and helped ease her up. She hated relying on him more than she wanted, but she needed the support right now—just until she got more strength back. She looked up at Marsilio, whom had come closer with a deep frown.

"T-thank-you," she spoke and her lingering confusion was there. He looked to her for a moment or two before letting out a deep breath through his nose.

"Though I believe a woman has no place among men's occupation, Mario chose to allow you amongst us. I trust him, and you have proven your worth. You work hard and strive to be better. What Emilio has done is wrong. He has broken our laws and his loyalty to Mario," he explained, and then paused to regard her briefly. "Can you make it to the _Villa_? We should get you there—Emilio would not dare enter."

"I… I can."

"Bring her to my shop first—I will clean her up. We must take care of her injuries," the Doctor spoke firmly, and Catherine gave him an appreciative nod. Marsilio nodded as well and turned around to lead them back. The Doctor wrapped an arm underneath hers, reaching around her back to help support her. She hated realizing she _needed_ his support. Her legs felt so damned weak, and breathing hurt. She didn't think anything was broken, but her abdomen burned like nothing else. Frankly, she was surprised she wasn't coughing up blood. It felt like she might at this rate. Thankfully the blood in her mouth was from her nose and lip, otherwise she might have been in some serious trouble.

The redhead took in a shaky breath as she realized she almost _had_ been. If Marsilio hadn't come Emilio would have done much worse. No, she didn't doubt he aimed to beat her until she couldn't move if he didn't kill her, but that would have been an act of mercy. He meant to show her she was a woman when she had been broken down; a thing to be owned and used as he saw fit. He was that cruel kind of man, and she had to work hard not to shudder and shake against the Doctor's arm. She might have been doing it without realizing it, anyways, but the man didn't show it as he kept her moving. Her legs did want to give out, though, so she probably was quivering.

The notion kept her reticent all the way to the Doctor's shop and even as he tended to her. Marsilio stood close by, his torch lighting the room in the dark. He was quiet, as well, but in a stalwart manner—far different from her. She looked up at him a few times, but he regarded her in the same calm way he had before. No pity, but no malice, either. A part of her wished he were really on her side, and not just being loyal to Mario, but she owed him her life—and no doubt her dignity. She would find a way to thank him somehow. Right now, though, she couldn't bring herself to talk. At most she made sounds of confirmation or shake her head when the Doctor asked questions.

"Here, drink this—it will help with the pain," he explained once he finished what he could and handed her a vial of fluid. She didn't have the strength to grimace as she popped it open and downed the medicine. It was bitter, and she vaguely recalled doing this once before. Yes—once a long time ago she'd gone through something similar to this. Her weaknesses laid bare; beaten and bruises and cracked. She had been able to help herself then—able to stop her mind from reeling. It was oddly harder now.

"Marsilio, will you take her to the _Villa_? I would not dare let her go alone, but I must see to my wife. You must speak to Mario tomorrow morning as well," the Doctor frowned, and briefly Catherine realized she wanted to tell him not to, but she kept her lips sealed. She decided to focus more on numbing herself; ridding herself of the pain. She tried to think. It was hard.

"I aim to. Catherine," the man called, and she looked to him for a moment before standing. She handed the empty vial to the Doctor.

"Thank-you," she told him, bowing her head politely, and followed Marsilio out. It was even darker out now, and she couldn't help imagining Emilio was out there, watching her; waiting for her guide to be gone. It made her heart race and her eyes shift everywhere despite her efforts to focus and remain calm and to think on what had happened. She tried to go over it, see it through a new way, but it was too hard. It felt too raw. It was too different from the first time. She had some hold, though. She was getting there. She just needed to be alone. Then she would be alright.

"Make sure you go to your room and do not leave without a servant or Ezio if you feel you cannot stay there. Mario will come to speak with you in the morning to hear what happened from you. Emilio will pay for his crime whether he is here for judgement or not," Marsilio stated as they climbed the steps and neared the Villa. She said nothing in return. In all honesty, she couldn't help thinking there wouldn't be true justice, and even if there was she wasn't sure that would really help. The damage had been done, and now her mind flooded itself with more than just the fear of moments before.

"Thank-you, Marsilio. I owe you my life," Catherine spoke softly once they reached the _Villa_'s doors. She bowed her head to him, but didn't meet his eyes. It felt dangerous, too, but not for fear of him.

She heard him let out a deep breath of air, "As I said, you have my respect and that of others. What Emilio did is wrong, and this is not the first time he has beaten up another or harmed a woman—he cannot be allowed to get away with it any longer. Go rest, Catherine. He will not hurt you again."

Catherine nodded and then he waited until she opened the door before he turned away. She entered and shut it behind her. She stared ahead blankly as she walked on, working through it all. Emilio would suffer, and she supposed that was a relief. However, the incident had revealed and cemented so much more for her. Walking brought forth more and more, making every movement harder than the last. Each step on the stairs was another crack—another broken dam; another flood. The words ate her—weak; pathetic; liar; powerless; _failure._ They burned and clawed and ate at her—at her wall. She tried to push them aside. She tried to step back and look at it from afar; to look on detached from her pain and emotions, but she couldn't get far enough before the tide would drag her back in.

She didn't know how she got back to her room or even shut the door. She didn't know how she made it to the bed, though it was there her legs collapsed and she grasped at the sheets as she pressed her head into the side. Breathing was hard, but her lungs managed to suck in enough of the needed air. Her mind fought hard against the panic growing within her—the burning ice that made her heart hammer and want to burst from her chest. She forced back the tears that threatened to pour from her eyes. She couldn't break down—not here. Not now. She wasn't weak. She was stronger than back then. She'd gotten so much stronger. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

"Catherine?" a muffled, worried voice called, and she froze. Her heart raced faster.

"Don't," she croaked softly, but it was too low to be heard. The door knob turned and she tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't move. She could only clutch the sheets tighter, eyes wide as she repeated the word. "Don't—."

"Catherine, are you—My God—Catherine!" the voice shouted, and suddenly Ezio was right beside her. He stood over her at first, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Don't," she whimpered again, her voice shaking more than she wanted. He couldn't be here. He couldn't. He was going to make it worse. He was going to make it harder to become stronger. She couldn't do it with him here. He would make her break. He needed to go. She needed to be alone. She had to push it all back.

"Catherine, what happened? Who did this to you!? Was it that bastard?!" he growled as he crouched beside her and took her head in his hands.

"Don't," she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut. "Ezio, don't—."

"Catherine—."

"Don't, _please_," she gasped, but then it was too late. Her wall broke and her tears came. She let out a choked sob as she buried her face into her hands. There was no holding it back. Everything came crashing down.

She was pathetic.

She was a liar.

She was selfish.

She had failed.

She would never go home.

She was _weak_.

It hurt. It hurt too much. She couldn't focus, and even if she had tried, it would have failed as Ezio wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to him. She heard him speaking softly, but she couldn't make out the words. She could only hear the failures screaming in her ears. She could feel him rub her back soothingly, but she gained no comfort. There was only the burn of her shame and the hot stream of tears that only ended when she was too exhausted and wracked with pain to stay awake.

* * *

**21 **\- _End_

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**TMWolf: **_So did I mention how Emilio would still be a problem? Because he is, and he's finally back. Oh, yes. Emilio is a friggin' ass. He is the epitome of it, and worst still he is dangerous. He finally got caught this time, but was it too late? It certainly feels like it to Catherine, whose quite the mess even with Ezio there to let her cry._

_Unfortunately__, thins don't get easier-not yet. Nope. Catherine is for a tough time over the next few chapters and many, many months. As for Emilio... well, you'll see what happens next time, and we'll get into Mario's past, too! But I won't spoil it, and I'll leave you guys here to worry about our poor redhead and see how she handles things, and what will be Emilio's fate!_


	23. Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

**TMWolf: **_And time for chapter 22! The big aftermath of Emilio's actions, and it's a doozy. Expect Cat to be a mess, and old secrets to come to light! It's kind of intense, and we can only hope there is a light at the end of the tunnel for our poor protagonist!_

_As usual, how I write/interpret the characters is my own, but heavily based off the canon._

_Now for reviews, which I am always so glad to get! It means a lot and I really do love to hear what you all have to say! :)_

_**Daennarys** \- Oh my Gosh thanks sooooo muuuuch! xD I really appreciate that, and I hope you'll continue to be enraptured by my tale ;D_

_So today's chapter title is from Secret Sister's - Tomorrow Will Be Kinder. Not quiiiite at the theme of the song, but it's a theme that people try to say here. Kinda :p_

_Anyways... again, I always love to hear your comments or answer whatever questions you have, although I won't give spoilers! xD_

_Now for the story!_

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**22 **– _Tomorrow Will Be Kinder_

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**April 3, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine groaned when she woke, her body sore and breathing somewhat painful—not terribly so, but enough that she noticed. Her head throbbed, too, and she was acutely aware of some swelling on one side of her face. Her abdomen hurt the most and touching at it made her hiss slightly. She opened her eyes slowly, noting it was rather dark in the room, although she could see enough light coming through the window to suggest it was well into the day. _That_ was surprising—Ghita would have woken her up if she hadn't herself, and she rarely, if ever, missed her wake up. She was even more surprised Mario wasn't here yelling at her, or that Ezio hadn't come to get her. Why was she still in bed?

'_Wait.'_

She paused as she rubbed the bridge of her nose and blinked slowly. She was in bed. She didn't recall doing that, and she was still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Her collar was ripped and blood-stained. Her hair was in a knotted mess, too, and she could taste the remnants of copper—blood—in her mouth. What had happened? How had she gotten here?

For once, her questions were answered right away. Memories came flooding back, and she shuddered at them. Emilio had attacked her, and might have done worse before killing her. Luck had been on her side, though—the Doctor and Marsilio had saved her, and she'd managed to get back to the _Villa_. She'd struggled all the way to her room. Then she'd collapsed and Ezio had been there.

"Oh, fuck me," she groaned as she eased herself up and rubbed her eyes, which felt heavy and puffy. She wasn't surprised. She'd no doubt cried for an hour or more to make herself collapse from exhaustion. She couldn't help feeling a flicker of shame, but then wondered why? Any other woman in her position would have cried, too, wouldn't they? A man might not, but she wasn't a man was she? No, she was a woman, and she was much weaker than them despite her efforts. Emilio might not have gotten what he wanted, but the damage was done.

Tears threatened to come forth again, but she pushed them behind a new dam. She couldn't help it before, but she wanted to at least hold on to some pride and decency despite her train wreck the night before. Oh, she knew it was foolish to do so when it had all been laid bare, but she was pitiful enough to try. Besides, neither Ezio nor anyone else was here right now to get in the way—to keep her from steeling herself. It still proved to be hard as she fought against the truths—that she was a pathetic wretch who had failed and was weak and a liar and selfish—but she did enough to not start sobbing. She even managed to shove the covers back and slip off her bed. Her legs threatened to give out under her weight, but she held fast and breathed in deep despite the ache it sent through her.

Catherine trudged on, working her way to her vanity slowly at first, but then at a more normal pace. She still leaned on the wood as she looked into the mirror and winced. Her left side had a decent bruise over her cheek. There was still blood caked under her nostril and over her lip, but it had healed overnight. She imagined the bruise would have been worse if she didn't heal as fast as she did now. It was tender, and would be until tomorrow no doubt. She sighed as she touched at her ripped collar, lamenting the fabric. Dea could potentially fix it, but the blood stains might not come out so easy. She undid the buttons of her vest then and pulled her undershirt free. She rolled it up and grimaced at the sight of the blue and purple beneath. It thankfully didn't reach to her ribs, although it certainly felt like it. She had been lucky in that, too.

Sighing again, the redhead moved to slip off her vest, but suddenly hissed as a sharp pain went through her right shoulder. She vaguely recalled it being the one pinned against the wall. She hadn't thought it'd been hurt that badly, but it must have hit just right or something. It was yet more pain to force herself through, but that was nothing she wasn't used to. She just wished it didn't keep reminding her of the night before. Of course, there would be no forgetting—not even when the bruises had faded and the pain ebbed.

"Catherine?" a voice called, and she figured it was Ghita by the feminine sound.

"I'm decent," she replied, and had a feeling she would need the woman's help. However, she was completely surprised to see Claudia appear in the reflection of her mirror when the door opened. She turned, eyes wide, and soon the young Auditore's expression matched, but with a touch of horror. She even gasped, a hand going to her mouth, but then she was frowning with both concern and anger as she stormed over. She reached up as if to grasp her roughly, but then touched Catherine's face so gently she almost didn't feel Claudia's fingertips.

"My God, Catherine… I had heard something had happened, but this? Is it true? Did that man—that Emilio—did he do this to you?" she spoke softly, but in such a way one knew it was a demand.

"Claudia, don't—don't worry yourself with these things," Catherine replied as she pushed her hand aside and looked away before turning back around. She made to pull her vest off, forcing herself through the strain, but she struggled. Claudia saw it, too, and while the redhead was thankful, she hated having to rely on the young woman to take her vest off and set it on the bed. The young woman did not say anything as she motioned for Catherine to unbutton her shirt. The redhead silently did as told and it, too, was removed with her help. The redhead was surprised, to say the least, that Claudia was willing to do something that seemed to lack in propriety, but she was grateful for it the help.

"Here, you will need proper attire. Dea and I might mend your old ones, but perhaps something new might be better," the young woman explained as she retrieved a shirt and vest from the redhead's drawers. She helped her get them on before she looked long and hard at Catherine's face. The redhead briefly met her dark eyes, finding quite the opposite of Emilio the night before. It didn't take long for the questions lingering there to come forth. "Catherine, you said I have a choice here. I did not think so at first, but I believe you now, and I _choose_ to be worried with these things. Perhaps it is not what you meant when you said so, but I have chosen it all the same. So tell me if it is true—did this Emilio man hurt you? Do not lie or try to avoid it. I have grown tired of it from my brother and from Mario and those who wish to keep me safe, so I will not suffer it from you."

Catherine let out a deep breath of air as she adjusted her sleeve, finding the ground far more interesting than Claudia's face. A quick glance up, though, told her the young woman would not let her be. No, Claudia would have her answers, and the redhead supposed she owed her them. She had made the choice hadn't she? Or was she just so weak she couldn't refuse?

"He did. He cornered me last night."

"Monster!" Claudia snarled. "Now I am glad Ezio gave him what he deserved."

Catherine's gaze shot up, "Wait—what?"

"We both saw you go by last night when you left for your room. I thought nothing of it, but when Ezio left in such a fury after checking on you and then returned with Mario yelling at him—confining him to his room… I asked him later and he told me, but I could not believe it, yet now I have seen you and you say it is so…"

"What did Ezio do?" the redhead frowned, causing Claudia to pause.

"He fought with Emilio. He was bruised in kind, but the other man did not come off unscathed. Mario was furious, though, and Ezio was stewing until early this morning when the men were called to the Barracks. The town is beginning to speak already."

"Wait, wait, wait—Claudia, what's all going on? What's been happening? Ezio fought Emilio? Mario yelled? The men were called? Why wasn't I woken up?" the redhead pressed, only to find a hand held in front of her face.

"Ghita said there was to be a trial, which means Mario will speak to those involved personally—away from the others. Furthermore, you were hurt badly, Catherine. You needed your rest. Just look at you!" the young woman exclaimed, motioning to the redhead's face upon which a stubborn frown appeared. Claudia sighed deeply, hands set on her hips for a moment as she watched her companion carefully. "Catherine… why? Why do you do this? Why do you push yourself so hard? Why do you get yourself into such circumstances?"

"I—," Catherine began, but couldn't go on. She bit her lip, though stopped when she tasted blood, having opened her wound there slightly. Again the floor became interesting, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She felt her dam cracking some, and hated herself for it. Why couldn't she just keep it together? Why was it so damn hard? She needed to tell Claudia something, but what? Why was she even doing this? What was the point? Was there even any? What was she anyways? She let out a shaky breath as she squeezed her arms."I don't know. I just—I don't know. I didn't want _this_."

"Then what _did_ you want? Why do you do what you do? Why do you feel the need to?"

She clung tighter to herself, "Because—I… I wanted to be stronger. I wanted… I wanted… I just… Claudia… please—don't. Not now. Maybe not ever. I can't—I can't do this right now."

Claudia opened her mouth, no doubt to demand more answers, but she stopped just before she could. She retracted the words and looked at Catherine carefully. The redhead glanced up at her every so often, just waiting for the young woman to go on, but she didn't. Not right away. No, Claudia took a long while simply watching the redhead standing there, arms latched around her sides, no doubt looking as pitiful as she felt. She wished the Auditore would leave, but Catherine knew Claudia wouldn't. She wanted answers, and wouldn't go until she got them. Catherine couldn't risk her dam breaking again, though—not again. She had tried so hard; she didn't want to fail another time.

"Sit down."

Catherine blinked, surprised, and looked to Claudia. The young woman just let out a huff of sorts and motioned to the chair at her vanity.

"Sit. Your hair is a mess. I will fix it for you. You should at least look presentable when Mario comes to speak to you. Now sit. I will put it in that pony-tail you seem to enjoy even if you _should_ have a hair net."

Catherine paused for a moment before obeying with a quiet nod. She settled down into the seat, and half expected the young woman to be a little rough or start demanding more answers, but once again she didn't. Rather, Claudia carefully went about taking out the hair tie that had managed to survive almost a year now, setting it aside, and then gently combing through her hair with her fingers at first. The redhead could feel the knots and mess, and so did what she could to not wince when her hair was tugged. Claudia noticed every time and would go more gently until it was done. Once the worst was over, she finally took the brush and ran it through her hair meticulously.

It was then Claudia sighed yet again, "I do not know why you cannot say what drives you. Ezio told me you have your reasons, although it is obvious he does not know them either, and so normally I would simply continue to press you for them, but… for now, you do not need to answer me. You are like my brother in that way—he is better off working through it himself until he needs help. It is a wonder you managed to cajole him into talking to you at all, and I imagine you are going to be even more stubborn. Women always are, so I will not press, but I _do_ expect you to tell me one day. I will know why it is you have come to be in such a state—especially when you granted me the courtesy of speaking of my woes to you."

"Claudia," Catherine replied back softly, meaning to say something meaningful to her; something to convey her relief and gratitude and surprise at how kind she was being, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she only smiled. "Thank-you."

"I will say, however," the young woman hummed, glancing at the mirror so she met the reflection of Catherine's eyes, "that if this is the choice you have made, then perhaps it is not the best one. If I have a choice, but then so, too, do you. You can choose to be something else—something that does not bring you pain."

The redhead chuckled, "I'm starting to think this is some master plan of yours to make me into a proper woman."

"I will have you know—although I disapprove of a woman taking part in such… activities… I admit… you inspire a sense of… well, inspiration, I suppose. Foolish, yes, but admirable in its own way," Claudia huffed, giving her another look before she reached for the hair tie. She brushed back a few more locks before she went clumsily about working the band, not quite used to it, but managing well enough. "There. As close as I can get it. If you wish, I can help with covering your bruises. Dea procured powders for me."

Catherine shook her head, "No, it's okay. If anything, I need it to show as proof of what Emilio did if Mario is coming to talk to me. Or, well, I figure since I was the one attacked."

"Well, afterwards allow me to do so. You may be trying to learn to be like a man, but you can at least still look as a woman should."

"Shouldn't you be offering to Ezio then?" the redhead grinned a bit wryly, and Claudia's lip flicked upwards.

"Perhaps I should," the young woman mused before settling into a pregnant pause. She met Catherine's gaze, her own filling with concern. "Catherine… are you certain you will be alright?"

"Yeah," the redhead nodded. _'I have to be_.

Catherine hoped she would be, anyways. Deep down it didn't feel like it. It felt too much like a piece of her was gone and she couldn't get it back. It was a terrifying thought that made her want to hide away and never come back, but she knew she had to keep walking forward. What else could she do? There was no place for her here—not really. She didn't belong here. This wasn't her time, but she couldn't go back home anymore, so what could she do? She just didn't know, and that was perhaps the worst part. That, and the pretending. The lies. She wanted to tell the truth, but she was too scared to. She was a coward.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Both young women looked up as the redhead told them they could come in. This time, she was not so surprised to see it was Mario, his face somber and weary. He looked older than he was; so haggard and burdened. She could imagine. He had to punish Emilio for his crimes, and that duty was solely on his shoulders. He had to consider all sides and decide on the most appropriate decision. If the stories of the men were anything to go by, it would mean anything from being sent to a faraway outpost to death. She wasn't sure where this one belonged.

"Claudia, I need to speak to Catherine alone," he said calmly, but the gravity to his voice was there. The young woman noticed and, after a hesitant look to the redhead, she nodded and departed. She waited at the door only to give Catherine a small smile and then the redhead and Mario were alone. She didn't meet his gaze, eyes falling to the hands she kept in her lap. He watched her, though, standing there near the door. Unlike Claudia, he did not take long to speak. It was perhaps only a few seconds before he came forward, eyes always on her. "I take it Claudia told you some of what happened already?"

"A little. Ezio apparently fought Emilio after I passed out, and you're trying to get all the information to pass judgement."

He nodded, "Yes. Ezio I have already given punishment—simply labor in repayment. As for Emilio… I have already heard the Doctor and Marsilio's stories. I have come for yours and then I will allow Emilio to speak before all of us."

"I understand," she nodded back, and the older man let out a deep breath of air. She could see him looking at her closely—eyes flicking between her cheek and lip. His frown deepened, and she felt some relief from that.

"Tell me what happened last night."

Catherine deflated some, "I, ah… I made a delivery for the Doctor after training—to the house with the little girl with dark hair. They lived in the corner on the far side of the city, and when I headed back, I was attacked from around a corner. It was too dark to see at first, but then Emilio had two others and one had a torch so I could make him out then. He struck me across the face first, and when I stood he hit my stomach. He hit me there again and his men hauled me up by my hair and kept me against the wall. He grabbed my throat—not enough to suffocate, but it was hard to breathe. He told me he'd warned me enough and that he was going to show me my place. He ripped the collar of my shirt, and when I tried to scream for help he hit me again. I spat blood into his face and he told the others to hold me—that'd he'd give what was left to them. He tried to hit me again, but Marsilio and the Doctor came and stopped him. The other two left, and then Emilio did. Marsilio and he Doctor took me to his shop, cleaned me up, and Marsilio escorted me to the _Villa_. I got to my room and… Ezio found me, and I collapsed not long after."

Mario regarded her, mulling over her words for a long while before nodding, "I see. So he attacked you and beat you… and… more?"

"He… No… he didn't do _more_, but… I think he wanted to. I couldn't confirm it, though, beyond ripping my shirt, but he did it when he mentioned how I was a woman."

"You are _certain_?" he pressed, and she didn't know why, but she flushed some.

"Yes. I'm sure. He didn't do more than hit me," she replied, and he made a hum of acknowledgement. She took the pause to glance up at him, see the latent rage there. She had a feeling he wasn't the only one to look that way. "I… is… was Ezio hurt bad? I didn't—I didn't want him to do that. I told him not to do anything to Emilio, but…"

"As I said, he will perform labor around the city as punishment for striking one of our own… although I did so reluctantly, I assure you. Emilio _will_ be punished for this," he growled lowly and then came closer, holding out his hand. "Can you make it outside?"

Though it was out of kindness, the question burned her. Even Mario knew she was weak—too weak to even be thought capable of making it on her own. She pushed it aside; pushed her shame back and took his hand. She should probably just be grateful he cared enough to ask. She doubted any of the men got such kindness. She liked to think it was for a good reason, but now she wondered if it was out of pity.

"Yes. I'm tired, but I'll be fine for training," she replied as he eased her up. She hated realizing she was more than just tired. She was exhausted.

"There will be none today—not when there is a trial. It may rain as well; it has been dark all morning," he hummed and waited until she was steady before releasing her and motioning to the door. "The others have gathered already. You will stand beside Ottavio, Marsilio, and the Doctor. The others will bring Emilio out and he will be tried."

"Okay."

He looked to her, "Catherine—."

"Am I okay?" she forced out along with her smile. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I'm just… tired. Things have… they were hard last night is all."

"I see… After the trial… I would like you to come to my study later. We have not talked in a long while. I think it is time we did so again," he smiled back, but she knew it was more than that. It was never so simple with the older man, and while before she would have loved to speak to him again after so long, right now it felt like another tribulation to go through. Another ramming into her dam. She just needed to be alone, but she couldn't—not here. Not like before.

"Okay."

Mario just kept his smile there for a few moments longer, grasping her shoulder warmly, and then led her out of the room. Claudia waited for them, and Catherine had to admit she was surprised yet again. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised all the same. She managed a grin as they passed and even a little wave, and then she looked at her no more. She hated knowing the young woman would worry, but there was no helping it. She just hoped she would wait to press until she had a hold of herself—_if_ she could ever get a hold of herself.

_'No, stop. You can do this. Just… just stop thinking. Just get a grip,'_ Catherine groaned mentally as she followed Mario down the stairs and to the entry-way. As he'd said, it was dark outside, gloomy even. The thick, gray clouds were oddly fitting for the day. It probably would rain as Mario has said, and with the onset of low rumbles of thunder, she was certain of it. Beyond that, though, there was a distinct stillness to the city. She couldn't hear the sounds of bustling people, regardless of how few there might have been. She couldn't even hear the murmur of the soldiers down on the second level, all spread out around the ring. She did see all the eyes on her and Mario, as they came to the stairs.

Ottavio, Marsilio, and the Doctor were to the right, and on the left were the two men that had worked with Emilio along with two soldiers that worked on the walls keeping an eye on them. Their hands were bound and there was mixture of guilt, despair, and regret in their features. The crowd was a variety of expressions; some looked uneasy, some looked ready for a verdict, and most she found unreadable. There was one, though, that caught her gaze and held it. One filled with a deep anger and concern that softened when he saw her.

_'Oh, Ezio,'_ she sighed when she noted the cut on his lip and the decent welt on his forehead. She didn't doubt he had more underneath his clothes, and while she was thankful for his defense of her, she wished he hadn't done it, either. She couldn't be mad at him, though; not when he stepped forward with the look of worry for her. She somehow gave him a small smile as Mario had her come to stand beside the Doctor. Ezio never looked away from her even when she turned her attention to the masked man, telling him she was feeling better, just tired. He gave her a vial of medicine, which she promised to take later. She didn't dare show such weakness—needing the medicine—in front of the other men. That, and an even deeper quiet had come over the crowd as heads turned towards the right. The only sounds to be heard were the rumbles above and the drum of her heartbeat, which went faster and faster as the men began to part aside for someone. A cold sweat formed on her neck and brow, and her fingers tightened at her side. She stared, and wished it was because she hated the man. Instead, she knew it was because she feared him so much that she couldn't look away.

Two men held Emilio by his arms, restrained behind his back in rope bonds. His hair was a matted mess and unkempt like his clothes were, which were loose and not tucked in—as if he had just been woken. There were stains of blood on the white fabric and his nose looked swollen and like it was off-set. By the scathing glare at Ezio, she knew he had caused that. Briefly, she felt some joy, but it withered when the man turned the same glare at her. She repressed her shudder, but his smirk told her he got what he wanted. He knew she feared him, and that gave him joy. She just hated herself more.

Emilio was brought before Mario and the others, set onto his knees just in front of the ring in front of his commanding officer. The older man gazed down at the younger, his expression devoid of any emotion save a lingering anger. The sky let out a deeper rumble—almost a clap—and then the rain came. It was slow, just sprinkles hitting here and there. A few citizens that had come to watch left to get out of the cool drops, but all the men stayed. None moved. None dared.

"Emilio Visconti," Mario began, and the sky seemed to echo him. The rain came a little harder. "You have been brought here today to answer for your crimes against your brothers."

The man laughed, "'Brothers'? _She_ is no brother! _She_ is not one of us! You should never have let _her_ in!"

"You have purposefully attacked one of your own with the intent to do harm and end their life. This evidence has been backed by the testimony of Marsilio and the Doctor, both witness to the crime, from the victim herself who bears the marks of your assault, and from your cohorts, who have begged for forgiveness in exchange for their pardon," their commander went on, pointing to each group as he did so. His eyes never left Emilio, nor did the other man look away. "What say you in your defense?"

"I do only what is best for _your_ troop, old man. You told us you only allow for the best, yet what is she? Women are weak and have no place among us and yet you allow it! You coddle her; treat her with special care. You break your own rules for her! You have gone back on your word, Mario! You swore you would not fail us again, and you have done just that," Emilio snarled back, and then suddenly laughed. Catherine glanced to Mario, having thought his expression had changed. It had—ever so slightly. The older man's face had tightened, his lips creased together. Emilio laughed again, "Oh, I remember well, Mario. I remember what you did! I was there! I may have been young, but I was there! These fools do not know, but I do. They don't know how you slaughtered your own men! Yes, that's right—he killed his own, and for something so petty. Tell them, Mario. Tell them what _you_ have done and then see if you are fit to judge me for _my_ sins!"

Confusion was one of many emotions going through Catherine, and she knew she was not alone. A murmur rang up around the men, and many looked to one another, trying to understand. She glanced at Mario at first, but his face was steeled. She glanced to Ottavio, next, but he only frowned in confusion. In some faces of the crowd she thought she saw recognition, but it was hard to tell. She looked back to Mario, and she saw the strain. Above them, the sky thundered loudly and the rain came harder. It was cold and sent a shiver down her back. Sounding over it all, though, was Emilio's laughter.

"See?! You have no right to judge me, coward. I have done more right by these man than you—."

"It was twenty years ago," Mario began, and somehow his voice seemed louder than the storm. All eyes turned to him, but he did not waver. "It was twenty years ago that I learned from a traitorous bastard there was an ancient artifact said to possess great power held beneath this city. I made the decision to find it. I took a group of my soldiers and a miner down beneath the city where I found a hidden passage. There I lost man after man to the traps, and even the sight in my eye. Still, we pressed on. We had to know what was so great that the city was attacked to retrieve it and these traps were made. And we did. We found it. I regret that very moment every waking hour. It was no great, powerful gift. It was a curse. It poisoned the minds of my men and even myself. It reeked of false promise and drove us to madness. They lost their sense and attacked me. I was forced to strike them down one by one until only I remained. I brought the artifact out and had to it sent away to a place it could not corrupt any others. The mark remained, though, and I see it every day—in the darkness in my sight. I swore from that day I would never again endanger my men or fail them; never again would I allow them to be poisoned and corrupted.

He paused to look back at the younger man, "You are right, Emilio. I have failed. _You_ have become corrupted. You joined with such promise and showed such skill, and I failed to show you true honor. I allowed power to corrupt you and now you have sinned in the same way. You have attempted to kill your fellow soldier, and for that you will pay. I have done so with my burden and the loss of my vision, and I pay still with each day. I will never be free of my guilt, and so it is my prison and my punishment. You, however—you can feel no guilt. This is clear to me. As such, there is only one option I see for you: exile."

There was another murmur through the crowd, this one louder than before. Emilio's eyes widened, and for a moment Catherine saw fear in them. A flicker of joy went through her for it, but it was gone soon enough. Exile. It was something terrible to be sure, but what? She looked to Mario, whom walked forward to stand just in front of Emilio, still staring down at him.

"Emilio Visconti, you are hereby exiled from _Monteriggioni_ and all its territories and allies. All your former brothers are to consider you an enemy and a traitor. Should you be seen in our lands you will be considered a threat and killed on sight. You will be relieved of your weapons save for a dagger and given a horse. You have one day to leave the area, after which my men will attack you," he continued and then looked to the two who had worked with him. "If there are any who would dispute my word and believe him to be right then you may leave with him and be friends of _Monteriggioni_ no longer. Let this be so from this moment on. Stand him up."

The men holding Emilio did as told, pulling him to his feet and turning him around. Mario used the knife on his belt to cut the rope bonds. The man, eyes full of rage, was turned back around, and the knife was put into his hands—the lone weapon he would carry.

"Leave, and never return."

Catherine swore she saw Emilio grip the dagger as if he wanted to shove it into Mario's chest. However, even if he tried, it would have ended with him dead. He must have known that, too, because he merely let out a low snarl as he shoved the blade into his sash. He shot a glare to his former cohorts who would not meet his gaze. He looked to the other men, but there was no pity from any of them. He snarled at Ezio, whom scowled right back. His eyes found Catherine's next, and her heart raced. She did her best to keep a steady gaze, but she was filled with relief when he looked back at Mario, his fury rising tenfold.

"You will regret this. You all will. You will all suffer under his rule—_all_ of you!" he howled as the rain came down in troves. It soaked the earth and their clothes and their hair, but none moved as they watched him turn and trudge off. He brushed past them all, snarling under his breath. No one followed him. No one spoke to him. No one let their gaze linger long before they returned it to Mario, whom stood steadfast. He gazed out back at them, his head held high despite what had transpired and the wound—the secrets—he had shown.

"If any should have a complaint on my choices—be it to banish a man or allow a woman into our ranks, then let it be with me. Do not take it out on your brothers in arms. If you should think I am unworthy of commanding you, then you have my blessing to leave. I will send you off as my blood and you will always be welcome here," Mario spoke and the thunder rumbled on with the thumping rain in the silence that followed. He nodded his head briefly. "You have my deepest thanks—all of you. Today we will not train. Rest as you see fit. If the rain ebbs we will begin anew tomorrow."

With that, he turned, paused to look to her—a reminder to meet him—and then headed up the stairs. Catherine breathed out, and realized she'd been holding it in. The crowd seemed to do the same, and after yet another pause, they began to leave. One by one they headed back to the Baracks and out of the rain. The two men that had worked with Emilio were led back, too, their heads low with shame—or at least, she liked to think it was. It was a small comfort when Emilio's banishment honestly given her none. As such, she sighed deeply, and looked to the Doctor when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"If you need more medicine, come see me or send Ghita. Rest today, though, and perhaps tomorrow," he told her, and she nodded, although she had no intentions of resting much if the rain ebbed. She needed to return to training, even if it was a fruitless venture now. She supposed the Doctor might have been smiling beneath his mask, but she couldn't tell, and then he left. Ottavio gave her one instead, touching and squeezing her shoulder gently. He murmured how it would be alright, and she wanted to believe it. Really, she did, but it was hard to. She gave him a simple "yeah" and then he, too, was gone. She looked up to the sole face left in the crowd, only to look down at the ground as he came closer. She could tell there was much he wanted to say, and she knew she did, too, but in the end, he held onto those thoughts and motioned towards the _Villa_ instead.

"We should get out of the rain," he murmured. With a short nod, she turned, and he gently set a hand against her back as if to steady her up the stairs. She thought a part of her wanted to hate it, but more of her took reprieve in it and was happy to have him "guide" her through the _Villa_'s doorway. They were wet now, and would need to change, but that would come later. She knew they needed to talk—if only to not seem so weak to him despite what had happened last night. It was honestly too late, but she had to try, right? Of course, there was not much more she needed to tell him that she believed she could right now.

"I, ah…," she started, trying to find the words, but it was difficult and she pushed back her wet locks awkwardly. Even if she had found anything to say, however, it would have been stopped as Mario suddenly appeared in the other hallway. Both of them turned to look while his gaze was left upon the redhead.

"I would have a word alone with Catherine, Ezio. If you can, have Ghita get some new clothes for her, and change yourself—you will catch cold otherwise," he mused, and after a reluctant pause, the older man's nephew nodded, gave the redhead a reassuring smile when she looked back at him, and then headed off. Catherine sighed, her eyes to the ground, and moved over to the older man's side. He gestured to the other opening. "Come—we will speak in my study."

She did as told, plodding after him through the red-carpeted room to the tiled one, lit by the candles. Outside the thunder and rain carried on, coming down harder now. It would be good for the city's vegetation, and today it just seemed to fit, although it did make it all the gloomier. However, it hardly compared to the cloud that was situated squarely on her shoulders and stayed there as she came to stand before his desk, facing the older man. He, too, faced her, and she bleakly looked up when he grasped both of her shoulders.

"Catherine, I ask you be honest with me: are you alright?"

Like with Claudia, she knew she couldn't lie, and so her voice shook slightly, "I don't know."

"Did he do more to you?"

"No."

"Catherine, do not be afraid to tell me—."

"He didn't do anything else—nothing physically."

The older man's grip faltered, and a look of realization came upon him. He did not take his hands away, though. She felt very small before him, and again she wanted to flee. It was shameful, and yet despite the strong creature she had been but a day ago, she was a wretch now. She had no strength; she didn't even know how she was standing or talking still.

"Catherine, you are shaking—why?" he asked softly, but it felt like a blow. She wanted to say nothing—to just tell him she was just cold and she was fine, but she couldn't muster it. That, and he knew the truth—the proper truth. He would understand, but he was also her trainer. He was supposed to make her strong; she was supposed to strong in front of him. She was supposed to trust him, though—she could do it where she couldn't give it to the others, if only to protect them or herself. Yet, even if she wanted to keep strong, the thoughts were there and they were breaking her. No dam was sufficient now, and she had to run a hand through her hair as she sniffed loudly and turned her eyes away from his.

"I'm… I'm scared. I'm _weak_, Mario. Emilio showed me that. He was right—I'm not strong enough to be one of them," she replied, her words quivering. "And not just that—_everything_. Everything is just—it's _wrong_!"

"Catherine—Catherine!" the older man shouted, gripping her more strongly to steady her. "What are you talking about? What is wrong? What happened?"

She sucked in a shaky breath of air, eyes locked onto her feet. She bit her lip, not wanting to say it, but she knew she needed to.

"Catherine, you can tell me—you know that. You can tell me all of it."

She looked up at him and sighed deeply as she wiped her eyes, "All of this—what I'm doing. It's… it's all going wrong."

"What do you mean?" he pressed gently, never letting her go.

"It… the vision—Giovanni dying… he died, and… wasn't… wasn't I supposed to help him? Wasn't I sent to help the 'mark'? I was told to—that it was how I got home, and now he's dead. The Clock gave me a vision and I didn't do anything about it, and now he's gone, and I just… I thought it would be okay. I thought I could keep doing _something_, but I don't know anymore! I don't know who I'm supposed to help! I don't know what to do!" she began to shout, her emotions bubbling over. She threw her hands in the air, forcing him to release her, and she ran her fingers through her hair as she lowered her voice. "And then—God, then… I have to keep _lying_. I have to tell Ezio and Claudia that it'll be fine and all these lies about myself and I can't tell them how I could have saved their father and brothers and I just—I hate lying to them, but I _can't_ tell them the truth. Even you said so. I can't tell them _anything_, and I hate it! I tell them to trust me to help them and then I lie to their face—what does that say about me?

She paused to suck in a sharp gasp of air, trying not to sob, "Not to mention, here I am saying I'll help them do what's best, but Ezio and Claudia don't want to stay, but I keep trying to get them to because they have a place here. They could be safe and have a family, and _I_ want them to stay. I want them around even though it's selfish and I can't stop myself from wanting it and trying to convince them, and yet I've done them wrong by doing nothing to help their family! I failed them! I failed—I failed my _mother_. I can't do what I was brought here to do and now I can't go home! I'm never going home! I'm stuck here! I don't belong here! This isn't my home! I don't know how to be anything here, and now my mom is all alone because I was stupid and was too weak, and I'm _still_ weak. I've been here for almost a year and I'm still too weak. Even Ezio has only been here a few fucking God-forsaken months and he's so much better than me! It's like nothing I do matters! No matter how hard I work I'm not getting better! I can't keep up, and I can't go home—what the hell am I supposed to do!?"

Despite her efforts, tears fell from her eyes, although she brushed them away with her sleeve. She sniffed loudly as he tried to calm down, but it was never easy after spilling so much. It was all out there now, and she barely had the heart to look at Mario. When she did she found him staring with what she thought was sorrow, but it might have been her vision blurring from the tears. She liked to think they were close enough for that after all this time and in part because of her situation, but that was too self-centered, wasn't it? It felt like it was. Still, she hoped for it, and when he touched her shoulder she looked up with that hope in her eyes.

"You are trying to carry far too much, little one," he began softly, squeezing just as such. "You cannot put the weight of the world on your shoulders—that is a burden none can bear alone. You are a brave soldier, Catherine, but you must take things one at a time."

"But what if all the things are all together? What if I can't do them one at a time?"

He gave her a small smile, "Then let us make it so. You say you are selfish for wanting Ezio and Claudia to stay. Well, then so am I. I wish for him to stay and take up his father's mantle, and I would have Claudia stay as well—I would have my family here with me. I am even more selfish than you are, but is it not natural to wish to keep those we care for close to us? You wish for it to give them safety and peace, though—that is not so selfish. It is not wrong to want the best for someone. Surely you know that, yes?"

Catherine couldn't find anything to say as she realized that _was_ true, in a way. She was still selfish in a weirdly selfless way, she supposed. She didn't believe it quite it, but she nodded anyways.

"And now you believe you lack worth because Ezio is a better fighter than you? That all you have done has been for naught? My nephew has been fighting since he was a small boy. My brother groomed him from the start, and he already had skills with a blade. He has _years _on you, and you have only been training for one. Before that, you say you have four years of a… sport, you called it, but not _true_ fighting, yes? Then how can you expect to be better than him so easily? Furthermore… you _are_ a woman. Though you are considered one of my men, you still possess such weaknesses. It is far harder for you to become stronger than a man, and you have done well to overcome these obstacles. And you have strength in areas they do not. You are faster and more agile than most all of them, and your mind works more quickly—you do things they would not even consider. You are _strong_, Catherine—in your own way. Your work has made you this way, and you must not think otherwise."

She supposed that was true. As much as she wanted, she didn't have the strength of the average mercenary here. She could never out-muscle any of them, but she had used her techniques when she could. That was too seldom, though, even if she was faster. She couldn't outmatch them, so how could it be true? The part with Ezio was, at least. He _had_ trained longer than her. Still, she couldn't help thinking she should have been far better than this by now. She nodded, regardless.

"Now, there is nothing I can do about you returning to your home. I admit, I sometimes do not believe you came from another era, but other times the proof is clear. Your Clock certainly has power, and I certainly am aware of the great and terrible things Pieces of Eden can do, so I know it is, perhaps, not so impossible. Still, I also know I cannot make it work for you, nor can I send you back myself. I would if I could, but I cannot. I can only comfort you and help you seek a new way home… but until such time or if it should never happen… you have a home here. You are and always will be welcome in this _Villa _and this city. If you wish, it, too, can be your home. The people here do care for you—despite what you may think after what Emilio has said, the men do speak fondly of you. The Doctor certainly does. Ghita has enjoyed your company and your antics, and the city folk speak of how you help them when you can. I have rarely, if ever, heard ill. So, though I can only comfort you in the loss of your mother and true home... know that you have a place here among us, and you belong here just as much as anyone else."

Catherine held her breath as he spoke, hands clutching at the hem of her vest. She kept her eyes locked onto Mario's, soaking in every word. Her heart raced with hope at each syllable, and she told herself to believe it. It was true, wasn't it? The men besides Emilio and those he swayed had always been kind to her and laughed with her. Ottavio mentioned they liked her well enough. The city people were happy with her, too, or at least that she knew of. Perhaps it _could_ be home, but could it really? What if there was a way to get back? What if there wasn't? How could there be? She wasn't going home. She had to make it somewhere else—so why not here? Again, she nodded.

"I also cannot help with the lies you must tell. I know you do not wish to, but it must be so. The truth of your being here—that Clock you bear—cannot be known about beyond us. Its power is too great, and not many could handle the truth of how you came here. I do not think Ezio would falter, but the more who know, the more danger you may be put in. It is also as much for their safety as it is yours—especially when we do not yet know the full extent of your Clock's power. I know this is hard for you, but you must keep up your façade. I must ask you remain strong in this, and know you must lie to keep them safe—a good reason, no? Many good men have lied to protect their loved ones."

_That_ she knew was true. Giovanni had done it for most his life, and although his secrets had gotten him killed, he had done it to keep them safe. They had until that December so long ago now it seemed. Still, this lie was different. Was her secret so dangerous for others, or only for herself? Her Clock had no power anymore it seemed, so what was the harm? She knew she still couldn't say anything—not yet. Maybe not ever.

"You're… you're right," she sighed, speaking at last, and let her head hang and shoulder sag tiredly. "Still… I hate lying about not being able to save Giovanni and Federico and Petruccio."

The older man jabbed a finger at her, "Do not _dare_ think that, Catherine. You know very well their death was not your fault, and you know you could not have saved them. Even _I,_ with all my resources, could not. Just because you received a vision does not mean it was your duty to save them. You do not even know if this 'mark' you were to help was Giovanni. You must never blame yourself for this. You have done no wrong by Ezio or Claudia or even Maria. Do you understand?"

She didn't believe him. Catherine wasn't sure she ever could, but she nodded anyways as she looked down again. Mario hand grasped her chin gently, though, tilting it back up so she was looking at him.

"You will see. Things will be alright, little one. It will get better."

She sighed, "How?"

"…I think I have just the thing. Wait here," Mario smiled, much to her confusion. She watched as he left her to inspect his desk. He crouched low and she heard the sound of shifting wood. Moments later, he pulled out a box made of a deep, red wood that looked polished under the light film of dust on the top. The older man brushed it off, revealing a metal engraving of the Assassin symbol. He lifted the lid and from it he pulled out a gauntlet. It was a dark brown, almost umber, and not unlike the one Ezio had. This one did not have as fancy a metal bracer, though; the Assassin symbol was at the top with a simple design below, and the metal was thicker. It was fitted to a glove, though the straps showed it was adjustable and removable. On the other side was the hidden blade, though the design appeared older. She couldn't help staring as Mario brought it over and held it out to her.

"Here. I have not used it in ages—not since I took up the title of Mercenary—but it is still of good make."

"I—what… I… Mario, I couldn't… I can't take this."

"My hidden blade is gathering dust in that box—I would rather it be put to good use by a good person. And since I aim to train you in some of the ways of the Assassin, you will find it of use…"

"Wait—what do you mean by that?" she frowned, brows scrunched together. Mario chuckled as he put the bracer into her hands.

"I mean to train you in a new way. You believe what you are doing now is not enough, and perhaps it is because it is not the way to train you. Your particular skills and strengths are more in line with the combat an Assassin engages in. You are quick on your feet and in your mind, and you know how to dodge and get beneath guards better than most because of your smaller size. Your flexibility is also a bonus, and these are all useful qualities for an Assassin in combat. Therefore, I think it is wise we teach you the ways. That is not to say you will become one—I do not doubt you could, but that is for you to choose—but you will at least be able to fight like one."

Catherine looked down at the bracer, tracing the edges in the metal; in particular the Assassin symbol. The leather looked well in tact and with little scuff marks. She imagined it might be a little big for her, but the straps could be adjusted, and she could potentially just fit it over her own glove and sleeve. She would have been lying if she said she wasn't tempted. She had read about the things an Assassin could do in combat, and she had dreamed of being as skilled one day. Oh, she had no notions about actually becoming so great, but she still entertained the thought. Perhaps now she could take a step or two closer. The fighting style did seem like one she could work with.

"I… I think I would like that," she murmured, pulling the glove to her chest and keeping it close.

"I will need to change your regiment then. I believe I will have you train with Ezio specifically—he is closest in your abilities and he pushes you, as you do him. That, and I have been teaching him our ways as best I can. If you both were to be working on your skills, it would help you both improve faster."

She frowned a little, "Yeah…"

"Ah, you worry over him surpassing you. Do not think on such things. Everyone improves at their own pace, and if you take longer than so be it. You _will_ become greater one day, whether it is before or after Ezio. Focus only on getting better—use that frustration to overcome your weakness."

"…Yeah. Yeah, you're right," she replied more firmly, squeezing the glove. Mario grasped her shoulders, a much warmer and bright grin on his face.

"Yes! That is the expression I wish to see on your face. You must not lose this feeling. Keep hold of it. And know this: you are far stronger than you know," he told her, and this time she believed him some. "Now go rest, Catherine. You have had a taxing day. Sleep, relax, do what you must to feel yourself again and to heal. When you are at your full strength we will make you stronger."

"I'll need to learn how to use this blade first—I'm so used to swords," she chuckled, and he grinned right back.

"Do not worry—you will master it in no time. Now… ah, I hate to leave, but I must depart. I need to ensure Emilio is gone from our lands. You will never need worry about him ever again."

"Then go on—I've taken enough of your time… although I admit I've missed talking. It's been a while," she smiled.

"It has been. I apologize—I have been so focused on preparing the city and teaching my nephew… I will do what I can to make more time for you as well."

She waved her hand, "Don't worry—the city comes first, and Ezio needs to learn about things. Besides, I keep busy with all your training, keeping your nephew out of trouble, and fixing up the city when I can."

"And for that I am grateful. We may yet be able to open new shops—perhaps the brothel. It once brought in quite a good deal of coin."

"More like you want to keep your men from getting into trouble—better to be in a pair of breasts than trouble, yeah?"

He laughed, "Well, there is that. Enough with you, little one. Go get some rest."

"Go take care of the city then," she chuckled back, and he spared her one last smile before he turned and left. Catherine sighed once he was gone and looked down at the hidden blade in her grasp. She felt better. A little. There was still a maelstrom going on inside her, but she at least had a way to perhaps get better. Maybe. It would still take some time, and right now she needed a lot of things. Rest, certainly, but she couldn't get that yet. Thus, she breathed in and out deeply, turned towards the study's exit towards the garden and made that way.

The rain continued to come down at a good pace, although the thunder had ebbed some. In the distance there were flashes of lightning arching across the dark sky, but any rumbles were vestigial echoes. The ground was becoming a little muddy, but not terribly so. The walkway of the _Villa_ was dry except for the edges, the upper balcony shielding it. There was a bench against the wall, and it was there she sat. She let her legs splay out some and her head lean back against the wall. She held the hidden blade in her lap, rubbing along the metal and leather. Her mind worked over everything, though it didn't seem capable of focusing. It was like there was too much, but she supposed there was. She closed her eyes and decided to just listen to the rain, hoping it might soothe her.

Even if it had, another sound broke through the rhythmic pitter patter. She knew it to be footsteps, but thought nothing of it until a body flopped down beside her. She opened her eyes, turned her head, and found Ezio there. He, too, was leaning back, head against the wall, and legs splayed out some. She saw he had a pile of clothes—her clothes—in his lap along with a cloth. She noted his injuries, too, which seemed worse up close; the welt thicker and more discolored, and his lip more swollen. He was staring out at the rain falling down, but she caught his quick glances. She looked at the rain, too, smiling a little.

"Thanks. For hitting Emilio, I mean… even if it was stupid and I told you not to," she chuckled.

"I could not stand by any longer. Thankfully he will no longer be a problem," the young man snorted, although pouted some—no doubt upset he hadn't been able to do more. He did not go on, and neither did she. She imagined he was glancing over some in the way he shifted slightly here and there. When she looked over again, he finally spoke. "Catherine… he… did he… are you…?"

Ah. Of course. She'd only really told Mario nothing had happened, and the Doctor, too. She hadn't said much else, so it was no surprise. Catherine smiled a little, though didn't answer right away. Instead, she leaned towards him, setting her head on his shoulder. A part of her didn't think she deserved it—not after all the lies and everything—but she wanted it. To her relief, he lifted his arm to wrap around her. Maybe it was a stupid little thing, but she felt a great deal of comfort in the motion. Her heart fluttered some, too, and she closed her eyes again.

"He only hit me. I'll… be okay," she murmured, and she believed it—even if only a little. There was so much she wanted to say, but only so little could come out. It was almost a crime, and though Mario told her to not feel ashamed, she knew she would. At the very least she would feel guilty for not saying anything because she was afraid to.

"You know you can talk to me, Catherine. You can trust me."

Her chest tightened. Oh, if only. Certainly, she trusted him to an extent, but to tell him _anything_? No. No, she couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever. She wasn't strong enough.

"I know," she replied.

Ezio squeezed her gently when she didn't go on, smiling a bit, "I brought you some dry clothes. You should put them on before you catch cold."

"Too tired… let me rest for a little bit first?"

"Very well—for an hour," he chuckled. "Sleep, Catherine. Tomorrow will be kinder."

Catherine smiled back, hoping he was right. It would be a long while until she would know, though, so she focused on the rain, letting the pitter patter and the warmth she lay against lull her to sleep.

* * *

**22 **\- _End_

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**_TMWolf_**_: Aaaaaaaaaaand there's chapter 22, where I totally slammed dunked the title in at the last second like a friggin' dorky nerd boss! So. Let's see who knows their AC lore and Wiki-searching ;p_

_As some of you may not know, Mario's story **IS** true! That all did happen and you can read it on his wiki page. I wasn't sure of the exact date, but I had the gist and I figured it was enough time for no one but a select few to really know about it, one of them being Emilio... who brought it up to try and be a dick :L Now, I don't know Mario's **actual** reactions to all of it, so how he is here is **my **view of things and how he acts, soooo yeah. _

_But hey guess what guys? Emilio is banished, yaaaaaaaaay! Not much of real justice, but Mario just can't kill him. He has a balance to uphold, and this was what he decided on (okay, it's what **I** decided on, but you know what I mean). And to answer a question now: it maaay come back to haunt the cast. I dunno! You guys just have to wait and see ;)_

_In the meantime, Catherine is dealing with some heavy stuff, but Claudia, Mario, and Ezio are there to help her out in their own ways. I know I never do Claudia enough and I honestly regret that... they just... don't interact all that much right now. There will be more or mentions of more as we go, but Claudia is kind of doing her own things and coming into her own first :) And Ezio is Ezio. :p_

_Anyways.. as I've mentioned, things are going to go a little downhill for our protag for a bit, and then finally get better. **ALSO: A HUGE MONTAGE TIME SKIP IS COMING UP SO A LOT OF TIME IS GOING TO GO BY. **Get ready, and see you next week!_


	24. The Middle

**TMWold**: _And chapter 23 time! So hope you guys are glad Emilio is gone, because that was fun, lol. Unfortunately (and like I said), it doesn't get easier from here. Oh, no, no, no. 'Cat still has some things to get through ;) Also, this is a SPECIAL chapter in that it is a **MONTAGE**. This chapter will jump from date to date, high lighting certain moments over the coming months that I felt were important to show along the way._

_As usual, how canon characters act is based off canon and my interpretations of that :)_

_For reviews:_

_**weirdointhesun**: hahahaha unfortunately, not quite as cool ;p If only xD_

_Now... this chapter is from Jimmy Eat World - The Middle. Kinda fits, I think. Sort of. You'll see, I guess xD_

_Anyways, as I said this a **MONTAGE**. You'll want to keep track of the dates! :p And thus why the dates/location at the beginning are important, ha ha._

_As always, I really, really appreciate all you reviews and hearing what you have to say! It means a lot and your comments are great, so feel free to drop me a question or comment or what not! :'D_

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**23 **– _The Middle_

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**April 8, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine flexed her right wrist, and her Hidden Blade popped out instantly. She knew the feel of it after having tinkered with it while she recovered over the last few days. Her body had taken longer than she'd liked, but the pain had been more than physical. Her mind had been a mess despite everyone's kindness and support, and it was only about a day or two ago that she felt more like herself. The Hidden Blade had helped. Mario had instructed her on how to use and wear it, and she'd used the new focus to become accustomed to the weapon. Ezio gave his advice, too, although, truthfully, he didn't know how to use it as much a Mario did although their commander hadn't touched it in years. Ezio told her it was odd feeling it go into a body; there would be a brief weight as it entered, and then you retracted, kept moving, and it was done. Quick. Deadly. The perfect blade for killing discretely.

It was easy enough to figure it out from there. The mechanism was ingenious. A flick of the wrist was all it took to cause the blade to shoot out. She didn't boast to fully know how it worked so well, although she knew a spring was involved, but she did wonder how such an era could have made it. She was curious as to how it had existed for so long, but in the end she let it be. She focused instead on walking and flexing unnoticeably. It wasn't terribly easy, but she got it enough to where she thought someone wouldn't see unless they looked properly at it. She could only assume by then it was too late. She hoped so, anyways.

The redhead sighed softly as she sat on the steps of the _Villa_'s main room, waiting on Mario. Since she was going to start up Assassin training, her schedule and routine had changed. Now she no longer spent the morning training with the men. Rather, she and Ezio were to head into the _Villa_'s growing gardens where they worked on Assassin skills. It followed some of the same principles, but in this they worked on stealth and close combat using only the Hidden Blade. It was supposed to inure them to the ways an Assassin battle could go and learning to master the blade in battle. While it wasn't necessarily a real sword one should rely on heavily, in close range it had saved many Assassin lives.

Personally, she was a little excited, but she was also a little nervous. Uneasy. Unsure. Mario told her the training was mostly to make her a better fighter, but he had mentioned she might join the Assassins if she wished. Really join, that is. Before she had been more-so just "in the loop" thanks to her Clock, but with Mario's guidance she could potentially become a proper Assassin. She honestly wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wasn't sure being an Assassin was for her. Oh, she had fantasies of course, but that was just it—they were fantasies. This was reality. Even Ezio didn't necessarily want to be one despite his heritage and learning more about it, and, although his circumstances were different, the fact remained. Besides, could she even make it as one? She doubted it, but she needed this, anyways. Mario said it would make her stronger, and right now she had to be that—stronger.

"Ae you ready, Catherine?" a voice spoke up behind her, and she twisted so she could watch Ezio coming down to where she was. He plopped down beside her, arms resting on his knees. He had his Hidden Blade on as well, and she couldn't help grinning a little. They matched, kind of. He was still using his mercenary clothes for this training—they would be sparring after, anyways—so it stood out a little against his less intricate clothes. Hers somehow managed to fit in just fine, but it helped she had a bracer on both arms already. She would have to apply metal to the other one to match, though.

"I guess," she smiled back, forcing it a little.

Was she ready? She wasn't sure, but she supposed as long as it helped it would be okay. She'd push through it like the rest and maybe one of these days she'd feel more like herself. She was getting there, but not quite.

Ezio smiled back, nudging her, "Oh, come on. You're going to trounce me like always."

"Oh? I thought you said I never do," she snickered, raising a brow at him.

"I may have been lying a few times," he hummed. "Frankly, you'll no doubt end up better at this than I."

"Yeah, at first maybe, but you're annoyingly good at learning fast. Well, at fighting anyways," she snorted as she set her elbow on her knee and cheek in her palm so she could pout at him. Truthfully, the notion sent a small jab into her gut, but she let it slide. She would just have to accept Ezio would be better at fighting than she was—it was inevitable, and if Mario said so, then it was most likely true. She would just have to push her pride aside.

"Pray tell, what am I bad at learning at?"

"When to back off for one," she smirked back. "You have the bad habit of being obnoxiously tenacious."

"Ah, but you love it," he purred, leaning close. She rolled her eyes, shoving his face away, and he just laughed. "You are quite endearing when you are in denial—have I ever told you that?"

"No, but I think you told the baker's daughter. Didn't he threaten you with a knife when he caught you flirting?" she hummed with a wry grin.

He grinned back sheepishly, "Ah, yes, he did… but what is this? Do I detect a hint of jealousy? Finally ready to admit your affections for me?"

"Please. You are the _last_ man I would ever admit affections for. Besides, I need to have any in the first place, and you're simple not the man for me."

"Oh? Then what man are you looking for? I assure you I could be such a man."

She flushed slightly, giving him a look, "Not the kind that flirts with everything that breathes."

"You _are_ jealous!"

"No—I just don't think you take things as seriously as you should!" she snapped back quickly, her face going a bit redder as her heart raced suddenly. She hated that it did; she knew it would betray her. She _was_ jealous, and she hated thinking she might actually like him a little. It was just a little, too, but she always knew how these things went. She had to keep herself apart; keep it away from that. The idiot loved making it hard, though.

"Oh? Do I not train as hard as you or any of the other men?"

"You skip out on the evening jog to go chat with the young girls you find. Frankly, if you weren't so busy training all the time I'm sure you'd be off doing more than 'chatting'. Actually, I bet you _have_ on the days you don't do the morning jog."

"You're _that_ concerned over my activities? If you'd like, I would be happy to include you," he purred, and she knew by his cheeky grin he was just goading on her now. She scowled, cheeks just about scarlet, and turned away with a huff.

"No thanks. It's not like I'm saying you _can't_, and I don't really care if do it the end, but if means you might slack off it hurts everyone else," she spoke quickly, hoping to lead the conversation elsewhere. It was getting way too close to territory she didn't want to delve into. "So, no, I am not concerned over your 'activities'—I am concerned over your focus in training. So _stop _thinking otherwise."

"Alright, alright! No need to get so harsh," Ezio laughed, lifting his arms in defense. She continued to glare, and he just continued to laugh. She rolled her eyes ad huffed some more, but it was about that time Mario appeared in the doorway and she mentally sighed in relief. Thank God—her savior had arrived.

"If you two are done having fun, it is time to begin your training," he smiled, and Catherine was all too happy to jump up and trot down the stairs. Ezio gave a few more chuckles before he followed in suit, and Mario gestured for them to follow him through the studies to the outside courtyard. It was early morning, the sun not even over the wall, and the air was not cold, but not too warm, either. It was just right, really, and the redhead hoped that was a good sign. There was a slight breeze, too, and would serve them well.

The garden was greener than it had been, and some life _had_ finally come back. The trees were getting their leaves, and some of the grass was thicker. Brushes looked less like they belonged in a horror film, and even the gravel and marble paths looked smoother and cleaner. The servants had started to work on it lately, and she'd helped when she could, which wasn't as much as she liked. Apparently it was because Mario finally had extra coin for repairs—conflict had died down just enough, although would no doubt increase again at some point—but whatever the case she was glad to see more life in the place. The outside of the _Villa_, too, was livelier, but still had a ways to go.

There was one thing distinctly different about the garden: in the four-way crossroad where four benches lined along the edges along with tall trees were a bundle of scarecrows dressed in what looked like soldier armor from various cities. She couldn't name any of them, but some had armor and a dagger or two. It was funny, in a way, but she didn't fail to notice how one was set up right in front of a bush, one near a bench, another near a cart of hay left abandoned, and another beneath a tree. It didn't take a genius to understand why.

"This is where we will do the first part of your new training—learning how to assassinate your enemy. Properly, of course," Mario mused, casting his nephew a look. Ezio just coughed a bit awkwardly, although he did not feel guilty for what he had done. "As you can see, I have set up targets for you to kill. It is not perfect, but the situations are to simulate a real one. Here, we have various hiding spots. One is in the haystack—your opponent will not know you are there until you grab, stab them, and pull their body in to conceal it. The bushes are like-wise the same, although you will want to make sure you conceal yourself well. Another is a bench. In a city you will find plenty of people on them that will help you blend. When a guard comes by, you must strike and put them in your place and move on. Lastly, there is a tree. You will find few if any, in a city, but in the countryside? Many forget to look up, and you must use that to your advantage. These are the situations presented to you, and we will go over the many ways you may land your killing blow. As you progress, we will include battling with the blade and striking and running speeds for when your target flees form you, and much more. The way of the Assassin is not just using a blade to kill you enemy, but adapting to your situation and turning your disadvantages into your advantages."

"A… friend already taught me how to blend—that will certainly help," Ezio nodded, and his Uncle did so, too.

"Indeed. But an Assassin must do that and more, and skills may be always be refined as well. We will get to that in time. For now, let us work on perfecting the use of your blade as quietly as possible. For this, you will go one at a time and pick one of the four trials. I will have my back turned, and you will try to kill the target of your choice. Should I hear you, I will turn around. If I see you, you are dead. You must try again. If you evade detection and successfully kill your target, you will have passed that trial and you may continue to the next. We will work with this until you are successful at least three time in a row, and then we will move on."

"Sounds… easy enough, right?" Ezio grinned at Catherine, whom raised an "are you kidding" brow.

"You thought regular training sounded easy, and being loud is actually a tactic we used," she mused back, and he grimaced.

"Ah. Ladies first?"

She snorted, "Such a gentleman. I almost mistook you for a woman."

"I could show you how much of a gentleman I am."

"Is that what you tell your dick every night?" she snapped right back, and a flicker of a smile passed his features. "Fine. I'll show you how it's done."

"Please do," he chuckled.

"Are you two quite done?" Mario mused from behind them, and both looked back sheepishly. "Catherine, since you have 'volunteered', you may go first. Pick whichever you wish, and treat it as though it were a real situation. Imagine it a busy street with many guards—kill your target silently."

"Right. Gonna be some fun training," she sighed softly, flexing her wrist so the blade popped out. It was quiet and swift, and retracted as such. The red-headed young woman looked to her targets, judging them. None looked easy or simple—not with Mario watching. She had no idea how to kill stealthily. She'd never done it. She was used to brash and loud and with a long sword. This was different.

She would try, though. She had to.

A hand clasped her shoulder, and she found Ezio smiling, "You can do it."

Catherine managed to smile back, and when he released her shoulder and Mario turned around, she let out a breath of air she hadn't known she was holding and began.

**-O-**

**April 20, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine inhaled slowly and with control as she kept low against the shrub, making sure she couldn't be seen. Her legs ached from the unnatural position, but she was being patient. She had to be. Mario's ear were sharp. He could hear a blade of grass being crunched or a leaf on a bush brushed. He would turn and spot her. The brush wasn't nearly as thick as it should have been, so silence was the key. If she did not immerse herself in it completely, it was game over. She would fail—yet again. How many times would it make it now? Ten? Fifteen? She'd lost count. She tried as hard as she could, too. She tried to not snap the hidden branch or crush a camouflaged leaf. She tried to reach over the brush and wrap her arm around the scarecrow to stab it in the back. She always ended up making too much sound, though. Sometimes she breathed too loud. Sometimes she hit the bush too hard. Sometimes she made a sound she couldn't help. Whatever it was, Mario would turn and find her, and she was "dead". She swore he sometimes turned just for the sake of it, even if he hadn't heard her, and one time he had explained a guard didn't need to hear a sound to turn. She had to be more cautious and not rely on the enemy's naivety.

So here she was, perhaps on her twentieth try. Ezio, of course, was already almost there on the second target, the haystack cart. Even _she_ couldn't hear him and seeing him was difficult despite the fact she was watching him. He was like a shadow in the darkness, and it was as if light didn't touch him in the sun. It wasn't fair how good he was—how _natural_ he was it. It was like the blade was a piece of him and he just _knew_ how to move and where to be. He also seemed to know when Mario would look. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. There was nothing for her to do, though, besides suck it up and keep working. She just had to keep reminding herself that it was normal. He had Assassin blood—this was work his father and his father's father had done. It was instinct for him. As for her, this was something entirely new. She had to learn it, and instilling it into her bones was painstakingly slow.

_'Concentrate,'_ Catherine growled silently, mentally smacking herself. If she wanted to make this the last time she did this—if only to save her sanity—she had to keep focused. It had been nearly two weeks of this, after all, although the first had been spent getting accustomed to working with the blade and improving her sneaking abilities. Still, another week was getting to be too much. She needed to finish this.

The redhead paused as she came behind the scarecrow, it's limp, footless legs dangling just beyond the bush. It was barren enough she could make out the cloth easily enough. She breathed out slowly, and then in again. She peered through the brush and saw Mario standing there. Ezio was sitting on a bench behind him, watching the area. He knew where she was, and she recalled his words of encouragement, and tried to take them to heart. Words couldn't honestly help her, but she did appreciate his belief in her. At the same time, though, she couldn't help feeling like it was an insult, but that wasn't fair to him. It was just her stupid pride, and so she would shove it aside as always and instead smile back.

Catherine made to rise, but froze when Mario suddenly spun around. Had he heard her? But she'd been so quiet! She bit her lip, expecting the man to shout out where she was; tell her to start again. She was ready to scream as she waited in the burning silence. As such, she was surprised when the older man's face relaxed and he turned back around. She could scarcely believe it, but there it was. She wasn't going to let this moment slip by. Holding her breath, she slowly came up, keeping an eye on things. As soon as her arms could crest the top, she slapped her hand across the scarecrow's mouth, shove the blade into the base of his neck, angling up into the skull, and then hauled him over. _That_ always made noise, but by then it was too late. Even if the other guards noticed she could either slip away quietly while they searched for their missing comrade, or she could run.

She chose to hunker down low to the ground in a crouch, almost touching the grass and dirt with her chest. She kept her eyes on where Mario was, turned around once more. She could see Ezio was standing now, and then—a clap. And another, and a third. She had to pause, blinking. Why was he clapping? He'd never _clapped_ before.

"Well done, Catherine!" Mario spoke up loudly, and she paused yet again. Well done? She had done it? Was it true? She'd succeeded? It had to be a trick, and yet she stood from behind the bush anyways, scarecrow in her arms. She found Ezio grinning at her and the older man looking with at her with pride. Her chest swelled with happiness and she ventured back out into the area to return the "guard" to his spot. She then moved to stand before Mario, bowing her head respectfully. The older man nodded and grasped her shoulder warmly. "That was very good, little on! You were practically invisible and I did not hear you until it was too late. You are ready to move on!"

"I must say, I was rather frightened when you popped out so suddenly! I will have to watch my back from now on," Ezio winked playfully, and she spared him a light laugh. Although she was relieved she had finished the first one, she now had three more to work through, and if they took as long as the first, then she would be training for a long while at this, and then there was combat. She already knew how that would go, and so the victory was spoiled some. She refused to let it show, though, and instead focused on Mario, whom motioned for their attention.

"Catherine, you may either choose the same as Ezio for your second situation or any of the other three. The choice is yours and the rules are the same. Ezio, you will continue on. Catherine, watch as he does. You should start learning from each other."

It was stupid, but she felt a small flicker of annoyance at that—being told to watch what he did. It was another reminder he was better, although she knew he commanded it so she could get better faster. She just had to make do and get over it. Once she had it all figured out she would be fine. Hopefully.

"Give me a good luck kiss?" Ezio smirked, leaning his head close. Catherine blinked, and chuckled. Of course, when he did that it made it hard to be angry.

She smacked his face lightly, "Good luck."

Ezio just grinned, and despite her earlier feeling, she stood there attentively and watched.

**-O-**

**April 30, 1476**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine felt silly just sitting on a bench, waiting for the "right" moment to strike. Really, this wasn't much of a challenge. Although, that wasn't entirely true. It was easy enough to "kill" the scarecrow, but getting away was harder. Being that Mario based success on stabbing the scarecrow and vanishing before you were seen. He had assured them doing so in public would be much easier since there would be people around—in general, that is. There might be a moment where there weren't many, but either way you needed to be out of sight quickly. Thus, even if you killed the target without being noticed, if Mario turned and saw you leaving you were "dead".

She supposed the only good thing was that it wasn't taking quite as long as the others. She had first tried the haystack, but she was having too much trouble with getting in and out quietly or moving in it, too. She wasn't even sure how _Ezio_ was managing it, but she could barely hear him. He would have succeeded if he hadn't accidentally dropped the scarecrow because the shirt had caught on the haystack. It was a good laugh, but it wouldn't be long before he would be on to the third one. She, however, had only ended up becoming frustrated. She hated having to do so, but she changed to a different Assassination skill. Mario had disapproved a little, but he relented, noting perhaps it was a wise move if she was so frustrated.

So here she was, on a bench, watching Mario. Unfortunately, she couldn't wait forever. Mario had told them he had decided to start implementing a time limit as they got better at it, which meant waiting for too long wouldn't work. It made it more realistic she supposed—your target wouldn't wait forever. Thus, she knew it was time. She wouldn't have much left before the target would be "gone", which meant she had to act.

Catherine eyed Mario, whom was still turned around. She looked to Ezio whom was grinning a little. She rolled her eyes at him, glanced at her target, and then glanced to Mario. Now or never. She exhaled slowly, and, with quick motion she was getting much better at, she stood up suddenly, shoved her blade into the scarecrow's back, and spun around to let him "fall" onto the bench. She retracted her blade and started walking calmly as if she were another face in the crowd. This was the worst part—getting into the brush of the pathway. It was never close enough, and her heart hammered as she waited for Mario to turn around and catch her. She held her breath, each step sounding like a blaring drum on the dirt.

And then she was in the brush, she ducked down, and exhaled.

"She did it," she heard Ezio say.

Mario chuckled, "Indeed. She did well."

Catherine sighed with relief. She'd done it. Two down. Two more to go.

**-O-**

**May 10, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"You are dead!"

Catherine cursed loudly and shoved the scarecrow to the ground. She pulled herself out of the cart with a growl of frustration and didn't bother to wipe herself off as she stormed over to the bench near Mario. She ignored Ezio and his attempt to ease her frustration. There was no way she would be placated, anyways. This was at least the fiftieth try and she was beginning to think Mario was calling her out on purpose. How else could she be failing _this _much? It wasn't fair! Ezio was basically done, too! He was already on the tree and almost perfected it and she couldn't get past the fucking haystack!

"Catherine, calm yourself. You will get nowhere when you are frustrated."

"I know!" she snapped, glaring at him briefly, but then immediately looked down. "I… sorry."

The older man sighed, and she could see him motion to Ezio. The young man was reluctant, but he went off to work on his tree-climbing. She was left alone with their teacher, and though she should have been watching her fellow trainee, she didn't. She just stared at her feet. No doubt she would suffer for her outburst in mercenary training. He'd probably work her ragged to the bone and ensure she couldn't even lift her blade after. She imagined he'd pit her against Ottavio to ensure that. Yet another bruise to mark her failure—how she wasn't strong enough; wasn't skilled enough; wasn't _enough_.

"Catherine," he spoke, and she flinched, awaiting the backlash. "You will never improve if you focus solely on your failures. Think on what you have done right. I only caught you because I looked at the right time."

"How am I supposed to be able to work with that, though? I can't see if you're looking or not!" she sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. She was grateful he wasn't giving her a lashing, but the fact she had messed up remained.

Mario breathed in slowly, "You do not have the Vision, so it will be much harder for you. Indeed, you may need to rely on surprise and fleeing. But for now… have faith and keep strong. You will succeed."

"If you say so."

"Catherine… perhaps you should stop for today."

Her head shot up, "What—no—no I'm fine! I can do this. Just—I just need to cool off. Just have Ezio go a few rounds."

"…Very well, but _calm down_. Think on your mistakes and what you have succeeded in. Use that knowledge to better yourself," the older man frowned, and she bowed her head. He was right. He was always right, and she was only so lucky he wasn't furious with her. She had to get better.

For now, though, she needed to calm down.

If only it were so easy.

**-O-**

**May 13, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine couldn't believe it. She'd done—she'd _done_ it!

Laughing, she slipped out of the haystack, brushing the hay off. Both Mario and Ezio clapped lightly, grinning at her, and she grinned back. It had taken an eternity, but she had done it. It had been days of frustrations and hard work and timing and hoping she was "sensing" something, and it seemed like she had at times, but it didn't matter right now because she's done it! She's succeeded at the haystack.

"Well worth the tribulations, no?" Mario chuckled, and she flushed a little as she nodded with a shy grin.

"Yeah. Finally got it… Now I have to perfect it, though, huh?"

"Yes, but feel free to revel in your success. You have earned it."

"Indeed. You frighten me more with every passing day. I have to watch myself around haystacks now," Ezio snickered, ruffling her hair as she passed. She swat at him with a laugh as he went towards the tree. He almost had it, so it wouldn't be long now. She would take some time just learning to climb the trees, she knew. She'd maybe climbed one in her life, so it would be a challenge, and then jumping down to Assassinate—it wouldn't be easy, either.

"Nah, I like beating your ass where you can watch me do it," she winked, and he just laughed.

"Ah, so cruel. It is a wonder why I pine for you."

"I told you to stop—it won't go anywhere," she hummed, folding her arms over her chest.

He folded them right back, "Perhaps I like the challenge."

"Perhaps you should know when you're beaten."

"When have I been one to give up?"

"Just go assassinate the scarecrows, you," she replied, rolling her eyes and waving for him to go on. The young man laughed and did as told. Besides, she noticed the older man's arm move behind his back and when she looked over he was smiling almost knowingly. She raised a brow. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. You are two are simply... close."

"It's a game. We tease each other. You know he flirts with the girls in the city."

"I am aware."

"Then stop smiling."

He still smiled.

**-O-**

**May 16, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"_Shit_!"

Catherine grunted as she hit the ground and lay there. She sighed, ignoring the throb in her back and her knee, which had hit the tree branch on the way down. She had the bad luck of having her boot slip on the bark and she hadn't been fast enough to grasp the limb in time. So down she fell, and good grief it hurt to fall. She looked up into the tree branches, the sunlight coming through. She blew a piece of hair out of her face as she lay there, grumbling about in her head.

Well, that was another failure.

About the tenth time probably, although she had been getting better. She'd almost succeeded the last attempt, but didn't get away in time. Mario was to race after them when she made the kill, and he'd caught her the last few goes. She thought she would do better this round, but now she would have to try again.

"Catherine? Catherine, are you alright?" Ezio called, appearing around the bush where the tree was. She sighed again and sat up.

"Yeah. My back hurts a little, but I'm fine. Tell Mario I want to start over. I'll try not to slip. I may need some new boots or something. I think the soles are worn down," she rumbled, looking at her heels which were nowhere near as pretty as they had been when she first got them. "Not that you really need to go—you're basically done, right?"

He smiled a little, "Just about. Once you get this—which you will—we can start learning to fight with the blades and do running Assassinations."

"Alright. Sounds good. Go on back then—I got this," she rumbled, shaking her head, stood up, brushed herself off, and waited until Mario told her to begin climbing once more.

**-O-**

**May 20, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Halt!" Mario shouted, and Catherine cursed as she took off at a run. She had just killed the scarecrow, and, as usual, the older man had turned around. It was impossible _not_ to have him turn around since the assassination technique was loud and flashy. However, she had space, and she used her momentum to kick off into a sprint. Unfortunately, Mario was rather fast for an old man—almost unfairly so. He had actually caught her the last two times because he somehow managed to vault over the brush and grab her. As such, she dodged into the gardens, leaping over brush and taking sharp turns and such until she was near the edge. She knew he was behind her—she could hear leaves slapping and the man shouting for her to halt like a guard would.

She burst out from the gardens, and realized she was near the Villa's back courtyard with the second level balcony. She didn't bother with the reasons; Mario was right behind her, so she kept running, raced up the side, grasped the ledge, and hoisted herself up. She paused then, looking back, and found the older man below, panting as much as she was and his hands on his hips. He was grinning.

"Very good, Catherine—escaping to where your pursuers may not get to you. Excellent. Now, you must perfect it," he chuckled, and she nodded and grinned back.

She'd done it. She'd finally finished all four techniques. She still had to "perfect" them—as in, complete them enough times to satisfy the old man—but she'd managed to do all them at least once. It had taken well over a month, but she'd done it.

Maybe she was stronger than she thought after all.

**-O-**

**May 25, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine adjusted her blade slightly as she stood beside Ezio, the two of them in the center of the circular opening in the gardens. The haystack and the scarecrows had been moved, so it was clear of anything besides the benches. It was almost like the ring in the front of the_ Villa_ where the other men were fighting, but smaller and more open. It worked perfectly for what they were doing here, though, and now they were just waiting for Mario to meet them and give the orders. He'd had some business to tend to with the men, and she only wished it were easier for him. Apparently a small group had left at some point. The scar of Emilio's wrath had not fully healed, and she wondered if he was somehow doing something to cause it to remain raw. In the end, though, she knew the desertion was, in part, the story he had told, although Catherine had absolute faith in their commander. She hadn't pressed about it, and neither had Ezio, but she didn't feel the need. She knew what had caused the men to go insane—not a curse, but an artifact like her own—and his only fault was hoping it might protect his city. The other men didn't understand, though, and so some had left, but others that knew him better had stayed. Thankfully, that was the majority.

"I imagine you'll excel at this—fighting with the blade," Ezio spoke up, breaking her stupor. She stopped adjusting her gauntlet and looked to him, brow raised. He smiled, "It suits someone smaller—more flexible. You'll be able to get under my guard."

"Better watch out then," she smirked slightly, and he laughed, though settled when they noticed Mario coming through the back door. He wasn't as happy as he could have been, but he shook it off as he approached them.

"You have proven your skills in assassinations, now it is time to test them in combat. Like in your normal training, you will practice exchanging blows, but you _must_ be more careful here. These blades require closer combat and are harder to deflect. As such, we will work on basic combat with it—without your blades. Act as though you are wearing it, and aim your arms as such. When it comes to the real thing, stay the blade, but do not hold back, either. I want you to fight with all your strength as much as you can so you may do so in real battle."

"So… off with the blades then? Do like we do in the ring?" Catherine asked.

Mario nodded, "Yes, but more seriously. Strike at points you would think to use your blade on. If you strike the neck or back or gut or heart, you will most likely have killed them. Also, you will not be takings turns. You fight to win no matter what, and if you strike in the spot, the round is over, and you begin again until you can stand no more."

The redhead looked to her companion, who looked right on back. This wasn't as similar to their other training as she thought. They had to go all out, or he'd undoubtedly make them suffer worse. They hadn't really been holding back before, but there was still always some restraint.

"Take your blades off, and let us begin," the older man continued, motioning for them to do so. They nodded, unbuckled their Hidden Blades, and set them onto the bench nearby. They moved back out into the center than, facing one another. With another command from the older man, they began, turning into a fray of twisting and turning bodies, jabbing and swinging arms, and firm determination to win. Catherine, especially, pined for victory and so she pushed herself as hard she could. She would prove yet again she could be strong.

Just a bit more and maybe then she would believe.

**-O-**

**May 29, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine saw the blow coming, but it was too late. Ezio grabbed her arm and pulled her right over his back so she flew to the ground. His hand hit against the side of her neck, signaling she'd been beaten. Again. She lay there, glaring up at him as he grinned. She knew he only did it because that's how he was and they had been having fun at first, but not it only sparked her ire. Not to mention her body hurt. She had bruises all over, and her shoulders throbbed from being hit hard. Her arms and legs ached, and she didn't want to get up in the mornings. Ezio hadn't been holding back the last few days, and piling it on with her regular training, she was practically exhausted all the time. She wasn't really sure how she found the strength to keep going, yet here she was.

Only, it wasn't enough.

She's lost most every time now. Hour after hour they went, only stopping for Mario to critique them and rest between rounds, and despite what Ezio had said the first day she wasn't winning. Oh, she could move quickly enough and get beneath his guard, but he was stronger. Much stronger—more so than she thought. She knew it was because men tended to get muscle easier and were just stronger in general, but it was still frustrating. She would have thought her technique and flexibility would have come in handy, but she'd already used so many tricks on him, and he knew just how to block and grab her to keep her moves from working. She could rarely, if ever overpower him, and she could only recall winning enough times that she could count them on two hands.

It was _infuriating_.

"Here," Ezio spoke softly, giving her a smile as he extended his hand.

It was petty of her, but as she stared at the hand, her ire—that spark of rage inside her—grew hotter. She didn't want his sympathy or pity or help. She wanted to _beat _him. She wanted to prove she could be stronger. She wanted to prove she wasn't weak and all those things Emilio had said and that she believed herself to be. She wanted to be strong enough to be brave and not be held down by her doubts and regrets. She wanted to be worthy enough, and yet here she was, on her back, beaten.

"I'm fine. Let's just keep going," she snapped back, more harshly than she should have. Even as she said it, she knew she shouldn't have. His look of hurt only made her regret grow, and she cursed herself. That was her life, though wasn't—failure after failure. Never good enough. Never strong enough. No matter how hard she tried. She might as well give up.

Yet, she knew she wouldn't. She couldn't. So she got up, listened to Mario's words, though she hardly heard them, and then charged at Ezio. She didn't care what pain was to come—all she had to do was win. Only then could she be stronger.

**-O-**

**June 10, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine hissed as she folded back her sleeve and saw the scraped, lightly bleeding flesh. She had hit the ground hard out in the ring, this time with the other mercenaries when she'd fought with Ezio, still working with their Hidden Blades. It had hurt then and stung after, but she'd kept going despite having lost. She'd lost a few more and won far less, and now it was done and over with. As usual, she was left frustrated and upset—with herself. She could beat some of the younger, smaller men, but Ezio and the others were still too much for her. She had her flexibility and techniques, but it wasn't enough. It never felt enough. Her Assassin training wasn't enough. Her mercenary training wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

The redhead sighed with exasperation as she took her cloth, dunk it in the water bowl, squeezed it, and began to clean the wound. She grimaces at the sharp sting, but endured until it was clean enough. She wrapped it then, making sure it was well sealed, and then rolled her sleeve back down to finish it. Next she looked to her bruises, which were plentiful. She'd given out plenty of her own, of course, but her darkened blotches and light scars here and there were in far greater amount.

Shaking her head, she lowered her shirt and sat down in her vanity chair. She set her forehead into her hands, closing her eyes, and wished things would just get better. She had once believed they would, and certainly they HAD started to get better, but it had been an illusion. Nothing she did ever really worked. Mario had been wrong.

A knock came.

"Catherine?" the familiar voice of Ezio rang out as he opened her door, peering inside. She saw him in the reflection of the mirror and looked down, exhaling deeply. His tone grew concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine—as usual," she grumbled back, harsher than she meant to. Or maybe she had. She wasn't sure anymore. He was her friend, but every day she only grew more frustrated. She could only handle losing to him every single time for so long.

"I'm not so sure," he sighed softly, and although it was out of concern—she could see it in his face—it only served to fuel her annoyance. It sparked her anger, too.

"I'm _fine_, Ezio," she replied firmly, wishing he would just leave. She didn't want to deal with him right now. Not when he was the person she needed to beat but couldn't.

"Catherine—"

"I'm _fine_!" she snapped, slamming her hand on the table. She couldn't look at him; couldn't see the hurt in his face. She knew it was there, though. Yet, even as her guilt started to grow, her anger was worse. "Just—just leave me alone right now."

The silence that followed created a heavy weight on her shoulders, and her regret exploded. It only grew worse when she heard his sigh and the door closed behind him. The click it made was deafening, and she pressed her face into her hands with a pitiful groan.

**-O-**

**June 15, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine grasped at her hair, threatening to pull it out by the roots. She was stupid. So fucking stupid. She'd yelled at Ezio _again_. How many times had that made it? Five? Ten? A hundred? God, she didn't know. She didn't even know why she was. He was just doing what he was supposed to. He was helping her get as stronger by fighting without holding back. It was her fault she couldn't beat him. Yet she was yelling at him. Telling him to leave her alone; refusing to accept his help when hurt. She didn't mean to. She didn't—right? No, she couldn't. She liked Ezio. He was nice. He was a friend. You didn't treat friends like she was. _She_ didn't treat friends like this. What the hell was wrong with her!? Even if she was frustrated this was no way to treat him. It wasn't his fault!

The damage was done, though, and she was too fucking shallow and pathetic to go apologize to him. Too ashamed. Too much of a coward. She could only sit in her chair for hours on end after the door had closed, letting loose the weight of her guilt. She deserved it. She deserved his hate. She was surprise he bothered to check up on her at all anymore. He must hate her by now or _something_. Even Mario had become upset with her lately, and she swore the other men were starting to shun her a little. It wasn't in the way Mario had, but they just seemed less willing to be around her. It hurt, and yet she only grew angrier and more withdrawn. She knew she shouldn't, but she did it, and she didn't know why she couldn't stop.

She groaned again, letting her head fall to surface of the vanity. She didn't care it hurt as she stared at the wall, telling herself to just go and talk to him, tell him how sorry she was. Her legs wouldn't move, though. Her pride was stronger than her guilt, and it told her she just had to get stronger, and she'd do it on her own. It's what she'd always done, anyways. She got stronger on her own—she did most everything on her own. That was just how it was.

The redhead sighed when she heard another knock on the door, and wondered what the hell Ezio was thinking come back here. Was he going to yell at her? Was he finally getting mad? Or was it Mario? Had he come to reprimand her? She deserved it, so she braced herself as the door opened. She looked into the reflection, and sat up at once, turning around.

"Claudia?" she asked, having not expected her at all. She watched her, a frown on her face, and the redhead stared right back with confusion. "What are you—?"

"What is going on, Catherine? And you have one chance to tell me. Why are you yelling at Ezio? I have not seen him so worried or upset for a long while, and he does not know what he has done wrong so you will tell me this instant so I can either clobber him, you, or both of you!" the young woman snapped, hands set firmly onto her hips while she glared hotly.

"It's not—he didn't—"

"Then what is it? Hmm? Because this has been going on for some time and I am quite tired of it myself! You are unreasonably irritable, and Ezio is just too nice to say something! Now talk!"

Catherine groaned, shoving her hands to her face and dragging them over and through her hair. She looked at Claudia, hoping her own irritation wasn't showing, but she doubt it.

"Like I told Ezio it's _nothing_. I'm _fine_. Just leave it alone. Okay?"

"That is hardly an answer, and I know something is wrong now stop avoiding the subject. _Tell. Me_."

Her patience cracked some, "Claudia, don't push it. I am not in the mood, and _nothing_ is wrong!"

"Really? Because from where I am you are furious at something, but you refuse to say what, which is ridiculous! You are acting like a child!" the young woman growled right back, throwing a hand up before she folded her arms over her chest.

"Dammit, Claudia, there is nothing to talk about! Just leave it alone!" Catherine growled in return as she stood, throwing up her arms in her rage.

"Why? Why will you not talk to us!? You let us tell our pains to you, but you will not do the same?! Follow your own advice, Catherine! Just tell us what is wrong!"

Catherine's anger wavered then, eyes widening slightly. Her guilt grew ten times stronger, and she couldn't keep Claudia's gaze. She bit her lip, fingers tightening into a fist of rage—for herself. She was being so damned stupid. The young Auditore was right. She needed to follow her own advice and just talk to them, but she couldn't. She just _couldn't_. She knew she needed to, but something kept her from doing it. She didn't know what, but it was there and it kept her from saying more. It kept her from saying _anything_ back, and the silence dragged on, her gaze locked on the wooden floors while Claudia glared right at her, burning into her soul.

"Fine."

Catherine glanced up, and in the fury she saw a touch of pain. She cursed silently as she watched the young woman spin on her heel and grab the door. Just before she was all the way through the entryway, she paused and looked back at the redhead, eyes narrowed.

"We are your friends, Catherine. Try to remember that before it is too late," she spoke, more softly, and then she was gone. The redhead was alone in her maelstrom of anger and sorrow.

**-O- **

**June 21, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Catherine, wait!"

The redhead kept going, though; trudging her way up the _Villa_ steps. As usual, she was leaving furious—at herself. Today had gone only marginally better than those before. She could best one or two of the new men that had joined, but Ezio and the others were too tough. She could never find an opening and she ended up just thrashing her sword and arms about in an attempt to hit them, which left her at the brunt end of the punishment. Mario was furious with her, his castigation harsher and harsher each time. He even forced her out of the ring to "cool off", but that hadn't done much. She couldn't calm down no matter what. It was too much for her to do so. It was all too much.

She couldn't stop for Ezio's calls, either. She couldn't face him right now. She didn't want to. She didn't want to see her failure or that all she did was hurt him now. She didn't want to, but she kept yelling and he kept trying to reach out to her despite everything and it was just getting worse and worse and she didn't know what to do. Everything was just a cluster-fuck and she didn't know how to fix it.

"Catherine, please!" he shouted again, grabbing her arm just before she reached the _Villa_ doors. She wrenched her arm away, trying to bite her tongue to not say anything, but her mouth opened anyways.

"Ezio, I told you don't!" she snapped, hating herself even as she did it. She cursed and let her head fall back as she put her hands on her hips. She cursed aloud. "I—dammit, I don't mean to—I just… Ezio, just… leave me be—I don't…"

She turned to go, wanting to just get away and be alone and not have to suffer his hurt. She only got a step before he grabbed her arm again. She looked back, but held her tongue, expecting hate. She found sorrow and concern instead.

"Catherine, tomorrow I want you to come with me. Mario asked me to scout the outskirts—to get me used to it since he wants to send me out ther next month for practice 'missions—and I want you to come with me. I already told him to give you the day off. We're going to take two horses, pack some food, and head out. Alright?"

She stared for a moment, "Wha—wait… what?"

"Consider it your birthday gift to me—two days early, but still a gift."

His birthday? Good God it was his birthday and she had been acting like _this_? She felt even worse now, and couldn't even look at him anymore. She heard him sigh.

"Catherine, please. For me?" he continued, releasing his hold. She slowly, and just slightly, looked up at him. She could see how much he wanted this—to have her come. She didn't know why he did. She _couldn't_ see why he would. She had been so mean to him. Why didn't he hate her?

"…O-okay. Okay," she murmured back softly, ashamed.

She didn't see him smile, "Thank-you. You will enjoy it tomorrow. I promise."

He touched her shoulder briefly and then he was gone, and all Catherine could do was hope he was right.

**-O-**

**June 22, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine glanced up from the saddle horn to Ezio, whom was looking ahead with a smile on his face, lounged back in his own saddle. She wished she could feel the same so easily, but she was nervous. Very nervous. The young man had been jovial this morning and rather excited to get her up and going, but she still dreaded what was to come. It was silly to do so when it was obvious he didn't have anything bad in mind, but she had spent the whole night prior thinking of what he was up to and what had brought it on. She hate realizing the last few months had been her being a complete and utter bitch—to him. To Mario. To Claudia. People who didn't deserve it, and it was all because she was just too damn prideful. Some friend she was. She was always telling them how she was there for them and would be there, too, and yet here she was treating them like shit.

She owed so many apologies she wasn't sure she could keep count. She wasn't sure she could make them all up, either. How Ezio still cared enough to bring her out here was a marvel to her, and her paranoia made her think it was something bad, but she knew him better than that. Unlike her, he was a good person. He wouldn't bring her out here to do something terrible. No, even after everything, he was trying to help her.

"Ah, we're almost there," he spoke up, and she looked ahead. She hadn't really been to this part of the outskirts before, but it was one of the more forested areas. Some rock formations and boulders were out and about, and there were some ledges and hills that could be tricky to navigate if they went over them. The surrounding distance was just more trees and the horizon line, and the road was quite a ways back the other way. She highly doubted this was actually where Mario would send them on a mission, but he probably thought he needed to make that the excuse to get her out here.

"Um…"

"Where are we going?" he grinned, looking at her beneath his hood. He chuckled, "It's a surprise—some place we can do a little something… different."

"…Different how? Like what are we doing?" she inquired, brow raised.

"It's… training. Sort of. But one you'll like. And afterwards… well, we will see how that goes."

Catherine's lip quirked upwards slightly, "And what does _that_ mean?"

"You'll see."

The redhead smiled, although she felt a bit guilty for doing so. What right did she have to find joy in this or even humor? Yet, she couldn't help it. Ezio was infectious. So she kept her questions at bay and tried to keep her paranoia in the same place, but she worried the whole rest of the way and even as they dismounted, tying their horses to low branches. He merely motioned for her to follow, and she did so obediently. He brought her to a spot with a variety of trees, most of them a little short and with plenty of hand holds. If there were guards around, she and Ezio could easily climb and assassinate them. At least she had learned some things from her training, she supposed.

"Alright. We're here. Now turn around and don't peek," the young man grinned, laughter in his eyes as he gestured with his finger for her to do as he said.

She raised a brow, "Huh?"

"We're going to play a game of hide and seek. I'm going to hide, and you're going to find me. You have to use whatever skills you have to find me and 'assassinate' me."

"Ezio, you know I don't have Vision like you do—I can't find you like that," she frowned, folding her arms. Yet another thing that made her lag behind. Ezio's Eagle Vision gave him a fierce advantage. He could see people hidden away or make them out in a crowd, and he had mentioned once he just "knew" when an attack would come, which helped him fight better. She thought she maybe had a slight "six sense" for fighting, but if it was there it was a lot weaker than his. She certainly didn't have any of the other abilities.

"No, you don't, but you have other skills, and you're going to use them here. You can do it. As long as you find me, you win," he kept on grinning, though he came over to grasp her shoulders. "Just trust me, alright? And turn around and count to sixty."

Catherine sighed deeply, watching him for a long while, but then nodded. The young man laughed and motioned yet again for her to turn around. She rolled her eyes, but did as he said and counted out loud for him. She heard him race off, but soon lost track with the sound of her own voice being much louder as it echoed. Sixty seconds passed after what felt forever and she turned around. Ezio, of course, was gone, and even with his white Assassin gear she couldn't make him out in the trees. He really was too good at it.

"Yeah, I'm not really too confident here! How the hell am I supposed to find you without the Vision?" she called out loudly as she walked around, glancing between the ground and the tree tops. The grass and dirt was disturbed here and there, so she had a little something to follow, but when it came to one tree, that was the end of that.

"Just use your mind!" she heard him shout from somewhere further off. She frowned and sighed with exasperation. Great. More frustration, but like that would get anywhere here. She had no sword to slash with or someone to punch and she couldn't thrash about. She would look foolish. No, she had to think here, and so she set her hands onto her hips as she turned her gaze back to the tree in front of her. It was a small one, perfect for climbing, and it led up to a taller tree that went higher up. She didn't doubt Ezio had used it to move further away. She considered doing the same since she wasn't a bad climber herself, but then recalled she just had to find Ezio, not grab him or anything.

_'Just follow the trail. Look for leaves or places he would go,' _she mused, scanning the grass for fresh droppings. She found a few, but nothing definitive. She started following what she figured would be the best path, steadily heading towards east and closer to a decent declivity. If she wasn't careful and slipped it could hurt, so she paused, scanning the tree tops. She couldn't find him at all, and so sighed once more.

"I'm not getting anywhere with this! You might as well as come down already!"

There was a pause before he shouted, "Just keep trying! You'll think of something! You're clever, are you not!?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, turning around to see if she could find where the sound had come from. It was somewhere behind her, maybe to the left. She couldn't rightly tell, though, and she doubted she'd find him normally. He could just move, anyways, so how to find him? What could she do? Climbing would be silly, and if she couldn't find him, then she needed to make him come to the ground. How, though? How to lure him to the ground and "catch" him? He wouldn't just come down for anything, so what?

A thought flickered into her mind, and the redhead smirked. It was a tiny bit cruel, but she knew it could work. She moved closer to the edge, making note of the steepness and brush she could hide in. She could see a smaller, thinner ledge, but enough to hold herself up if she landed on it. Yes, it could work.

"Ezio, come on! This is getting ol—_shit_!" she shouted, "slipping" over the edge. She went fast, but she was prepared and grabbed the edge and a root. It was thick enough to withstand the pull and she used it to slip up into the near brush, concealed from sight. She made another low curse, as if hurt, and then paused, waiting. She held her breath in her anxious wait, but then—a rustle. Feet hitting the ground.

"Catherine? Catherine!" she heard shouting, and smirked slightly. Well, that had worked splendidly. She was honestly surprised, but very pleased. She almost couldn't recall being so pleased by a victory, and she almost laughed as she saw him race over. It was a bit mean to laugh since he was just concerned for her, but she was just too excited. Her grin remained even as she stood quietly and tapped him on the back. He stopped mid-shout, spun on his heel, and stared wide-eyed. "Catherine! You—you're—."

"Found you," she smirked slightly, and he guffawed for a moment before he laughed.

"See! I told you that you could do it!" he beamed, and she chuckled back.

"Yeah, I guess I did. Felt pretty good, although I do feel a little bad for tricking you," she mused, hands on her hips as she kept on grinning.

"It's worth it—especially if it can make you smile again."

Catherine paused, eyes widening a bit, and she flushed. Not from embarrassment, but namely shame. Obviously he had noticed her demeanor and he had been trying to help her the whole time. Even now. She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"I… Ezio… I'm… sorry. I… I didn't… I've just… I've been… frustrated. Or… or something. I just—I… I've been awful," she mumbled, and meant to resist when his hand grasped her chin, but she let him tilt her head up to see him. He was smiling softly, nothing but kindness in his eyes for her.

"I know you don't mean it. That is why I have been worried for you—why we all have. I hoped to perhaps ease your pain by doing this, and that you might finally talk to us. To _me_," he explained and sighed when she pulled her chin away. He grasped both of her shoulders, keeping his gentle smile. "Catherine, you _can_ talk to us. You know that. It is the least we—especially myself—can do. I thought leaving you be as you wanted would allow you to overcome whatever it is that assails you, but I was wrong. You've only grown worse, and I cannot stand idly by and watch someone dear to me fall into despair. Please tell me what has befallen you, Catherine. _Please_."

The redhead sighed. Before it was much easier to deny him because she had fuel to rage her, but there was none here. She had succeeded for once and how could she get mad at him like this? He was being kind and honest and he was right. She _could_ talk to them, but she'd been too stubborn and prideful to accept it. Too cowardly. There was no way to hide behind that wall here, though.

"Ezio… it's… I," she began, looking at him briefly. She wanted to pull away—that part of her that had for months now was still strong even now, but it wasn't enough to keep its hold. So instead of shouting, her shoulders slumped and her head fell. "I just… I'm… I want to be stronger."

"But you _are_ strong, Catherine. You are one of the strongest people I know."

"Am I, though? I'm not stronger than you or Ottavio or a lot of the other men. Emilio was right about that—I'm not strong enough to be a part of this, no matter how hard I try."

"Catherine, how can you still believe that man? He was cruel and evil and wrong. You _are_ strong. Just because you cannot best everyone in battle does not mean you are not. Hell, it wasn't until you became so caught up in this that you started to lose as much as you have. And just now—you found me easily. All you had to was trick me. You are _clever_, Catherine. You are smart. You have talent, skills, and strength to go with it. You are much stronger than you know."

"But—it's… it's not _enough_."

He frowned, cupping her cheek, "Not enough for what? What is it you need to be so strong for?"

"I… it…" she began, struggling as she looked at him and then the ground. This was too much. She wasn't strong enough—not for this kind of thing. She couldn't keep stable around others. She needed to be alone. She could only get stronger alone. It was the only way to push it all aside and be able to _think_ and work through it all. She couldn't do it when he looked at her like that—like he was there for her; that he would always be there for her. "I…"

"Catherine, you don't have to do this on your own. Just tell me—why do you need to be so strong?"

She squeezed her eyes shut as her wall crumbled, voice shaky, "I… it… it's because… I don't… I want to be stronger… so I won't regret—not anymore. I don't want to regret anymore. I don't want to be afraid and to regret, so I have to get stronger, but I _can't_."

"Why are you afraid? What are you regretting? What could be burdening you so much?" he pressed, reaching down to grab her hand, squeezing the fingers gently.

"Ezio… don't… I don't… I don't want to talk about it…"

The young man sighed, but didn't drop her hands. He looked at her long and hard, and she couldn't help wondering what he would say. She couldn't help hoping it would be something to make her talk. She _wanted_ to tell him, but she was holding her own self back. She didn't know how to do this. In all her pride and supposed "knowing" she didn't even know how to do this. It was pathetic.

"I… have one regret that haunts me still—for there truly is nothing I can do for it," he spoke, and she looked up at him. His eyes were on the ground now, a sad smile on his face. "Not long after you left—perhaps a few months, I do not recall, but… a woman suddenly appeared in the city—not unlike you. I never met her. Not really. But Federico did. He said he found her in such odd clothing and that she was perhaps the most enchanting woman he had met. He said she was similar to you in temperament, but fierier and she would not hold her tongue and she was so—so… _different_ in her thinking. He said her hair was streaked with red like fire, and she was quick in wit and movement. She was also incredibly short but well endowed—he remembered that _very _well. He had never met such a woman and he became enthralled with her. There were days when I did not see him from morning to night, and yet he would never tell me where he went or where she stayed. I tried to find her on my own once, but it was almost like she didn't exist, yet he was so happy I knew she had to be.

He paused, frowning some, "Then one day—perhaps a month later—she just… vanished. Federico said he couldn't find her. He was so forlorn; even depressed. I knew he had fallen for her. He had not gotten this way over any of the other women he had met before, and so I tried to find her. I asked all around for her, but no one knew her or remembered seeing her. It was like she was a phantom. Federico, though heavy of heart, had to give up. Father put pressure on him to do his work, and so he put on a brave face and smiled, but I knew he longed for her. So I kept looking when I could. I would forget sometimes, but when I remembered I looked. I wanted to find her so badly for him, but I never did… and then they were captured and killed. I did not think on it much then, but lately… lately I have begun to recall these things and I realize how much I regret never finding her. Perhaps it's a silly thing to regret, but I do. I wasn't skilled enough to find her. I wasn't strong enough myself, and I regret it so much…"

He paused to sigh deeply, and his smile returned, albeit weaker.

"But… when I regret it too much, I remember your words. I remember how you said everyone regrets and we can only try and have more confidence than doubts in our actions. We must keep moving forward. If all we do is look back, we can never grow or get stronger. Those are the words _you_ told me, Catherine, and now I think it is time you listened to them, too… and it is time you relied on your friends as well. You also said we could count on you, now you can count on _us_. You can trust us. We will have your back as you have ours. If there is something you regret, then do not be afraid to tell us. Do not be afraid to rely on us to move on from your regret—to become stronger; to not regret anymore."

Catherine kept her eyes locked on his, her heart racing in her chest. Those were words she'd always wanted to hear, and now she had. She honestly wasn't sure what to do. So she was quiet as she tried to figure it all out; tried to think of what to say. It was so new for her to just tell someone else. It was so weird—enough so that she chuckled softly. Ezio raised a brow and she chuckled a bit more.

"Sorry. I, ah… I'm just… I've… never been able to… well, I've just always done things on my own. I've never… I've never really had anyone to rely on—not for long, anyways. It's… I don't really know what to say," she replied at last, and Ezio chuckled, too.

"How about you begin with what you regret? If it's what has been troubling you so much…"

She sighed softly, "It's… well, it's a lot of things… things I'm…. not really ready to say, but… I regret… mostly… that I wasn't there—to help. I couldn't help you or Claudia or the others…"

"Catherine, you told me there was nothing I could do, and you were right. And if I could do nothing, then you couldn't either. None of us had the power to stop it. That is not something you should regret," he replied, squeezing her fingers. She only smiled sadly, though.

"I know, but… I can't help it. I had just…"

"If it helps… neither can I, but perhaps one day we can—when we believe we are strong enough to not regret it again. And I think you'll agree, since I'm trying to use your own words," he grinned, winking slightly. Despite the somber mood, the redhead laughed, returned the hold on her hand, and shook her head with a sigh.

"Yeah… yeah, I know. And you… or, well, I guess _I'm_ right. And… sorry. For being how I was. I know you say you forgive me or there's nothing to forgive, but I owe it to you, and I'm gonna try and get better."

"Good," Ezio replied with a nod, and took her head in his hands. "And to do so—you must know you can rely on us, and that is alright you are not stronger. You also need to use your head. Mario has been telling you to calm down and focus for a reason. When you use your mind, you are much stronger. Your trick enabled you to catch me, after all."

She chuckled, "Can't say I'll be able to do it right away, but… just remind me, alright?"

"Of course. Now… tell me—how much better do you feel?" he smirked a little as he removed his hands to set them into his hips. Catherine rolled her eyes with a smile, and copied his motion.

"Much better, you sneaky bastard. I guess I owe you now."

"I am only finally repaying you a small amount that I owe you."

"Well, thank-you still. And I guess I'm gonna have to give a lot more apologies when we get back," Catherine sighed, shoulders slumping some as she rubbed the back of her head. "Think we should head back now?"

Ezio shrugged, "Only if you are feeling better. If you still need more time, I think it would be good to just have a bit of fun out here. Practice our tree climbing, maybe visit that town again from before. I don't think we're far."

"…Well, I guess we could stay for a little while—just until it's been long enough for a 'mission' I guess," she hummed after thinking on it, smiling a bit impishly. Ezio laughed and pulled his hood back up before motioning her to start moving.

"Then it's my turn to find you. Let's see who can find each other the fastest, yes?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, "It's going to be you with that stupid Vision of yours."

"What if I promise to not use it?"

"Please. You're going to use it. You're a cheater."

"I won't—I promise. You can trust me."

"Fine. But none of your 'wins' count, because I know you _will_ use it, so by default I've already won."

He frowned, "Wait—what?"

"Count to sixty and then try and find me," Catherine smirked with a wink before she went off at a jog. She paused after a few seconds and turned back to find him still facing her way. She twirled a finger. "Turn around and don't peak!"

Ezio just rolled his eyes, "There's no point if I've already lost… but if the lady insists!"

With that, he bowed his head, turned, and began to count loudly. Catherine watched him for a moment, shaking her head with a silent laugh, and headed off to find a good spot. All the while, she felt lighter than she had been for a long, long time.

**-O-**

The good feeling went on for hours as the two of them went about their little "game". As she'd said, Ezio found her far more easily, but it was because of his Vision, she knew, and this time it was easier to accept. In fact, she didn't get frustrated even when sometimes she had to give up and wait for him to "pounce" on her. It was all laughing and good times, and she suddenly felt very, very silly for acting how she did over the past few months. Frankly, she was embarrassed, and relieved Ezio had made her come out here and shown her what she was too stupid and prideful to see. She knew she would lose sight every so often, but he would help remind her, he'd said, and she believed him. She would need that help, too, although today she would stay right.

She had apologies to make after all.

Unfortunately, that was always easier said than done, but she was a tough girl. That, and she had Ezio's encouragement. She meant to have him at her back when she went to find Mario, but he was too busy apparently—some business at a spot outside the city. A bit of trouble, Ottavio had said, but nothing serious. Thus, she apologized to the Captain first, but he was just happy to see her more relaxed. He teased about how that happened—being that she had been gone for _hours_ with Ezio—and ended up laughing loudly when the redhead smacked him many time until he raced away. Her face redder than her hair, Catherine moved on, intending to find another person she owed an apology to.

That "person" was Claudia, whom she found in the _Villa_'s study. She was going through some books, and so was caught by surprised when Catherine called out to her. She was even more surprised when the redhead suddenly embraced her tightly. Confusion was clear on her face as she looked to Ezio, whom just grinned. The redhead chuckled when she, too, saw the young woman's expression, and stepped back a bit more sheepishly.

"Sorry, I just… I owed you that—and an apology. I'm sorry, Claudia. For yelling. For getting mad. For everything. I can't promise I'll tell you everything or that I won't get mad again, but just know I don't mean it and I'm going to get better. I might need your help, though—a little smack upside the head and all. Ezio's too chicken, so I need someone who's not afraid to do it."

"I am not a chicken! I am just a gentleman!" the brother huffed, causing the redhead to grin slightly. Claudia just raised a brow, glancing between the two, but then smiled after a few more moments. She looked at Catherine smugly as she set her hands on her hips.

"If it is some sense-knocking you need, then I will be happy to help. It is about time someone did it for you, anyways. Uncle Mario and Ezio and those men of his obviously have not been doing a good enough job!" she snapped, though it was obviously playful. She put on a soft smile in the next instant, though. "But… I am glad you are feeling better, and I accept your apology. I expect you to explain yourself one day, but for now I will continue to keep patient. Just know I am not the most patient woman. I will grow tired of your little game of hiding from me, and I _will_ demand answers."

The redhead smiled and embraced Claudia again, "I'm expecting it. Thank-you, Claudia. And… again… I'm sorry—for everything."

"I suppose I can forgive you," the young woman hummed a bit wryly as she returned the embrace and then pulled away to jab a finger at her. "But I meant what I said."

"As did I," Catherine grinned cheekily. A small pause settled over them before it was disturbed by the presence of the young woman's brother, whom came to stand beside them, arms folded over his chest. Like both of them, he had a joyful expression on.

"Well, I for one am delighted to see you are all getting along so well… but now only one thing remains: just what is for supper, dear sister?" he inquired, and Claudia rolled her eyes while the redhead laughed.

"A 'chicken' and a pig," the young Auditore huffed, smacking her brother's belly lightly. "Ghita has not said, but it should be done soon. You better wash up before hand, or she will slap you with that spoon of hers, and she is far deadlier than Annetta."

"Certainly," he winced, but then looked to Catherine, holding out his arm. "Come, Catherine, let us wash up, shall we?"

She scoffed at his arm, "You, good sir, can wash on your own."

"Oh, but I might need some help."

"Yeah, well, get one of the male servants to help them, you pervert."

"Good grief—both of you go! And bathe separately! You are both terrible!" Claudia guffawed, shaking her head and pushing them away. Catherine and Ezio just laughed, and soon enough, so, too, did his sister.

* * *

**23 **\- _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And so you see what I meant when I said things wouldn't get easier for Catherine. Oh, no, it got quite worse, and it was, frankly, her own fault, the poor thing. Emilio messed her up pretty bad, but **now **she'll start getting better. She just needed someone to show her it was all alright and how to use her strength properly-who better than Ezio? :) And now its time for all her apologies, although those will happen off page. Fortunately, people are pretty understanding with her at this point, and most will just be glad she's okay._

_Anyways. So. Hope you enjoyed Cat's little fall from grace and then start back up, and all those little moments. I will have a variety of montages throughout the story since I feel its better to write these moments out rather than just sum them up after a HUGE jump in time. So expect these to happen every so often during game "down time" since Assassin's Creed goes through a LOT of time skips._

_Oh, and so people know: **The story with Federico is NOT CANON. It's a little something for... someone who knows who they are**. Just didn't want to confuse anybody on that-the story is from a... special little something with my friends, so this is kind of a gift for her xD Anyways, that's it for now-next chapter is more fun stuff!_

_Also, the training regime is just something I whipped up. To be honest, I would think Mario would teach him some techniques while there, but maybe that's just me. I mean, he just magically learns it later on? Nah, nah. Mario gonna teach him skills and then once he gets his second Blade he can do that double assassination business lol. Also, Catherine is learning so she has a style to match her body type and skillset better. She'll soon find it **is **a good style for her thanks to her flexibility :p But, yeah. The training is a little something I decided to add and make Ezio being magically able to do it perfect in the game explainable xD_


	25. A Life So Changed

**TMWolf: **_Aaaand time for a new chapter guys! Not much excitement here, so it's kind of a filler, but there's some important stuff introduced and set up, so, y'know, gotta have it! Hopefully ya'll will enjoy the banter ;) Lots of Catzio time this chapter, heehehe. Oh:_

**_SO I HAVE A PRETTY DECENT CHANGE TO THE STORY THAT I RECENTLY DECIDED ON. YOU DO NOT NEED TO GO BACK AND READ, BUT ESSENTIALLY I DECIDED TO CHANGE THE "GODDESS" TO A "GOD". THE WOMAN CATHERINE SAW IN THE CLOCK-DIMENSION THING IS NOW A MAN. I HAVE MY REASONS FOR CHANGING, BUT THIS IS JUST TO LET THE READERS KNOW SO THEY ARE NOT CONFUSED LATER ON WHEN ITS BROUGHT UP AGAIN._**

_As I said, you don't need to go back and re-read to understand, so carry on :p_

_Per usual, how I write the canon characters is based upon my interpretation of the canon._

_Also per usual: thanks so much for the reviews! I really do love hearing what you all have to say and what you think is going on, and I'm always happy to answer questions, so don't be afraid to ask! xD_

_Lastly, this chapter's title is from the Titanic movie's soundtrack - A Life So Changed._

_Now enjoy!_

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**24 **– _A Life So Changed_

* * *

**July 8, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine made a short yelp when the mercenary's fist hit her cheek. It wasn't terribly painful, but she felt it and staggered a single step back. Blood pooled into her mouth, which she spat into the grassy dirt. Her anger flared, but she cooled it immediately—or at least as much as she could. Anger would get her nowhere so she forced herself to focus. She recalled the split seconds up to the punch and saw her error; a misstep. A missing of the man's movement. She had been too slow to react. She should have kept her knees bent more to be ready to dodge at any moment. Next time, she would do better.

The mercenary charged towards her, and she leaped low, using her arm to brace and skid to his backside on her knee. She lunged forward, ramming into the back of his leg. He made a garbled sound of surprise as he dropped down on his own knee. She popped up to wring his head back by the hair, wrap an arm under his chin, press it hard against his neck, and then used her other arm to lock it into place. The man tried to stand, but she quickly brought her legs around to lock over his and then her feet under. He struggled, trying to grab at her, but she buried her head into his neck. He pulled at her hair and it hurt, but she just grit her teeth and held fast. If all he could do was grab at her arm or hair, then he wouldn't make her let go. He rolled some, trying to pin her or put too much pressure, but she held fast, and waited as the long seconds passed. She grit her teeth as her arm ached against his pulling, trying her hardest to keep the pressure. She just needed him to start going limp or for Mario to call it, but it was taking so long!

"Enough."

Relief flooded through Catherine, and she released him, falling back. She untangled her legs so he could roll over, coughing some. She would never have really let him fully choke, but he needed to feel it, and that gave her some pride. Finally she was starting to get some victories, and this was just one of those few. It had taken nearly a month of working—with a lot of help from Ezio, Mario, and Ottavio, of course—but she was getting better. A _lot _better. Her focus was stronger, and she rarely got into a blind rage. Oh, she faltered every so often, but she was able to use different moves like her choke hold to win her matches. It was a painstaking process, but it was worth it. She felt so much stronger than before already.

"How—how's your neck?" she asked the man, whom coughed as he rubbed it.

"Better before you did _that_. Little sneak," he grumbled, but not with malice. He was a good tempered man, and didn't seem to mind losing to a woman. Of course, most of the men remaining didn't seem to mind—not like Emilio had. His influence had lingered and caused some to leave, but those that remained were good men. She felt at home among them; like they did just see her as one of their own, and that helped, too.

"Hey, now you know not to let some tiny guard do that to you, eh?" she chuckled as she briefly leaned back on her arms, and then stood up. She held her hand out to the man, whom rolled his eyes, but took it with a grin.

"Knowing you, it'll be far easier to avoid a guard," he hummed as he got up, and then they both looked to Mario.

The older man nodded, "Well done, Catherine. Good, quick thinking and use of your abilities. Gasparo, we will need to work on getting out of that, but good work keeping her on her toes. You are both done—step out and rest for now. You may return to the Barracks early if you wish. Catherine, you will be needed after."

"Sir," both replied, bowing their heads and placing a closed fist over their heart. She and Gasparo headed out of the ring then, the redhead heading over to the wall near the stairs where a familiar young man was grinning at her. She raised a brow as she smiled knowingly back, and spun on her heels to lean against the wall beside him. She folded her arms over her chest and glanced up at him.

"What're you so happy about? You still have to fight Ottavio, and you can't beat him."

He just grinned more, "I am just happy to see you happy."

"Oh my _God_. You realize how cheesy that sounds right?" she laughed, and he paused for a moment, thinking.

"'Cheesy'…? Oh! You mean too sentimental. Right. Your little sayings are always so strange," he laughed lightly. "And no, I don't think it sounds 'cheesy' at all. Why wouldn't I be happy for you?"

"Well, I guess when you put it that way it works… but still. I mean… I should be like this, anyways—you've worked hard to get me here and all… even if I hate you for always beating me," she huffed slightly.

"Now, now, you've won a few rounds. No need to pout," he teased, poking at her. She pushed him back playfully with a chuckle.

"A few. But that's fine. I still make you work for it."

"Indeed. The bruise from yesterday still hurts," he pouted this time, rubbing at his stomach.

"Hey, consider it a battle scar. Ladies love those."

"Oh?" he smirked, leaning closer. "I take it that includes you?"

She gave him a look before putting her hand on his face and turning it away, "Calm down, lover boy. If that was the case your scar on your lip would have be weak in the knees all the time."

"No _wonder_ you always stumble a little during matches."

"Pfft. More like I'm startled by how ugly your face is."

"Oh, kitty-'Cat, don't lie to yourself. I've caught you looking."

"So I know where to not punch and make it worse—wouldn't want to cause the ladies of _Monteriggioni_ to suffer, and all."

"Even if I _wasn't_ so handsome, they hardly suffer. I could elaborate for you—perhaps later?"

"Elaborate? On how you make them laugh? Then I am already well aware," she snorted, though smirked right after. He smirked back.

"Oh, but there is so much I can teach you. You are still so innocent, after all," he winked, taking her hand to kiss it. She sent him a quick glare before she pulled her hand free and lightly "slapped" him on both cheeks.

"I may be 'innocent', but I'm not naïve. I know very well what you can 'teach' me. Wouldn't you rather teach that one young lady, though—the one that keeps wanting to see your room?"

He waggled a brow, "Is that jealousy I hear? You know you are more than welcome to visit. I would gladly show you how comfortable my bed is."

"Are sex jokes and innuendoes the _only_ comebacks you can make? Because they're getting a bit stale—or should I say flaccid since you seem to only ever understand that kind of thing?" she mused, turning towards him, arms once again across her chest.

"They're the best way to fluster you, although it seems you are well guarded today. Perhaps I should increase my efforts," Ezio mused as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What to do, though?"

"How about you hold your horses, buster?" Catherine laughed, shaking her head. "For one, even if you had a chance with me, you and I have no time for romance. We're busy training, remember? Besides, you're not really my type."

"You keep saying that, but I can't help thinking you're lying," he grinned like a fox. "After all, I never see you flirting with the other men."

"Who says I'm flirting with _you_?"

"Catherine, please. You are a _terrible_ liar," he replied, grin widening.

"And you are delusional," she hummed back, though despite herself she was smiling a little. Her cheeks were a bit warm, too, but she chose to ignore that for the most part. It was hard not to get a bit flustered when he was flirting with her like that, after all. Who wouldn't, though? He was a charmer despite her denial, and he had the looks to back it up. That, and she liked the attention. None of the other men flirted the way he did, and even when they had tried it hadn't been the same. Maybe. Sometimes she believed she chose to ignore it, but maybe not. She wasn't sure. She just knew it was getting harder and harder to deny she liked Ezio more than she should. Perhaps a lot more. Even dangerously so. She couldn't help it, either, no matter what she told herself. She was only so thankful she could use training as a distraction in the end—at least until he started to tease her again.

"Well, if this be an illusion, then it a good one," the young man purred, giving her that smile of his. She wanted to smile, but she managed to roll her eyes instead.

"Time to wake up, though—we're in the middle of training here and all," Catherine mused, giving him a look right back. He made a dramatic sigh as he rolled his eyes this time and leaned back against the wall once more.

"Ah, you always must ruin the fun. You are lucky I am so stubborn."

"Pfffft. Or what?"

"Well, I suppose I would have to stop vying for your attention—and you wouldn't want that now would you?" he winked, and though she meant to say something witty she just ended up laughing and shaking her head.

"Good grief… just watch the matches like you're supposed to, Ezio. Otherwise your Uncle might make our other training a lot tougher, and God knows he'll make our Assassin work tomorrow just impossible."

He winced briefly, "Ah…I supposethat is true… but do not think you are rid of me so easy."

"You really _are_ stubborn aren't you? Or have all those ladies out in the city finally seen through your 'charm'?" she replied with a wry smile.

"Perhaps they simply just do not interest me as much, or perhaps I like the challenge."

"Oh, so _that's_ it, huh? You just want the challenge? I'm a test for you, mm?" she barked back as if angry at him, although she wasn't—not really. She knew he didn't mean anything bad by it, but it was just too open for that. Also, she quite enjoyed the guilty and awkward look that came over him.

He rubbed the back of his head, "No—that is—that's not what I meant!"

"Uh-huh, well you just lost this 'challenge' then. I was _this_ close to kissing you, too," she smirked, holding up her fingers so they were just centimeters apart.

"Catherine, you should not tease a man like that," he huffed, pouting severely now. Catherine just laughed, and even had another bit of wit riding on her lips. It was cut off, though, as another person joined them at the wall, leaning against it.

"Well, well, aren't you two just a sight for sore eyes? And by that I mean you make me want to gouge them out," Ottavio snickered, head turned towards them. "You two should just get it over with already. Everyone already has bets anyways."

"Wait—_what_!?" the redhead hissed, smacking the man's arm. "They're betting whether or not I'll sleep with him!?"

"Well, not _quite_ that, but if you did I would win my bet," he grinned, and laughed when the redhead smacked his arm, her face as red as a tomato.

"Then you better pay up to the other guy because that _won't_ ever happen!" she snapped, folding her arms tightly and pouting fiercely.

Ezio frowned worse than a scolded child, "Do you truly find me so repulsive?"

"You—you're just not my type of… guy!" Catherine grumbled, sighing with some exasperation. "You're too… frivolous, or whatever. You can't take anything seriously for more than like five minutes, and then you're a total flirt! Besides, I'm busy training and focusing on work! I don't have time to deal with little boys!"

Ottavio sighed with a grin, shaking his head, "You're either a shrew or you're like the Lady Auditore then. Ezio, you must help me win my bet!"

"I assure you I am trying!" the young man laughed, and Catherine was left to throw her hands up in frustration. She promptly called them foul names, which made them laugh more, and she continued to huff. She refused to talk them after that, although that lasted only perhaps a few minutes before she was smiling to keep her laughter at bay and she had a few smart retorts come forth soon enough. Of course, all the while she was reminded of how she did feel _something_ for Ezio, and all the talk kept giving her hope—a lot more than she wanted or needed. She chose to not think much on it, although she knew it would come back to the forefront of her mind soon enough. She supposed that was better than her doubts that had plagued her a month ago, but she wasn't sure. Of course, she was never sure about that aspect of life.

_'Alright, you, focus on the training,' _the redhead sighed mentally as she ignored the playful jabs sent her way—something about being a tease or what not, and how she was breaking Ezio's heart. There was no need to take it seriously, to be honest. It was just teasing. Sure, she and the young Auditore did it a lot and "flirted", but it wouldn't go anywhere. Even if they actually wanted it to, it couldn't. Despite her hopes, she had to remind herself that Ezio still wanted to leave once training was done. The thought hadn't actually come up for a long while—especially not once they brought in their Assassin training—but she had seen maps. She had seen him asking merchants about roads. He was still vying for it, although she liked to think he _was_ considering staying. Maybe. She hoped he would.

Of course, even if he did stay, it wouldn't change anything.

_'And there you go thinking about it. Shush, brain. Focus on training. Not focusing on the bad stuff is good, but _this _stuff is not helping so enough,' _she grumbled, wishing she could smack her mind and make it forget all that stupid crap. Honestly, it was really only so bad because of that one day Ezio had knocked sense into her, and he'd been at her side whenever she needed it. Once things got more like how they had been before and they were doing more of their own thing it would go back to normal. She would be able to stop thinking about it.

"You can stop giving him tips—they won't work," Catherine snorted when she heard the Captain trying just that.

He chuckled, "Hey, I have a bet to win—and I got some decent coin on it, too."

"Oh good Lord. I can't believe you're going to try and play match maker," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I don't mind," Ezio smirked, and Catherine gave him a look for a moment before shoving him away. He laughed as he stumbled slightly.

"You have some odd tastes, Ezio—I never knew a man that enjoyed such punishment."

"What? But you let Mario beat you all the time!" the young man replied with a snicker.

"It's because he's too thick in the skull, now can we _please_ stop talking about it? My non-existent affections for Ezio are _not_ what we're here to work on!" Catherine groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, alright, I suppose we can let the little one have her peace. Just come by later, Ezio, and I'll give you some more pointers," Ottavio winked, and the redhead's mouth creased into a thin line.

"If Ezio tries anything 'new', I am going to punch him you _both_."

They just laughed, but the teasing settled. It helped that the last few fights were going on, this time with the new men. Despite Emilio's lingering influence, there had been new recruits. They still had more losses than gains, but they were eager to learn and become stronger. So far they were doing well enough and didn't mind the punishment. As usual, most were shocked to see her training, too, but once the other men just shrugged and went with it, so, too, did they. Thankfully, none of the other men minded her presence, so it all went fairly smoothly. Now she only pitied the men going through the rigors of beginning lessons. It would get better after the first month, but still.

Their rounds never went too long, so once the newbies were done, that was it. Mario gave the call to end the lessons, and now it was time for Catherine and Ezio to do their thing. Their teacher had started to include some of their Assassin work in the final part of training. They still focused solely on the hidden blade and assassinations in the morning, but the evening involve mixing all of their training: sword, blade, and hand-to-hand. Some of the other men stayed to watch every now and then—especially some of the new ones since she and Ezio used moves most weren't used to—but tonight they were alone save for Mario.

"You ready?" Catherine asked as she adjusted her hidden blade and rolled her shoulders.

He nodded, adjusting his own, "As always."

"Good… and look at attention; he's about to speak," she replied, gesturing with her eyes towards the older man outside the ring. He was smiling at them, which was a good sign.

"You are both making fine progress! Today, along with continuing to work on your attacks, I am going to teach you how to position yourself more properly in battle. Where you stand and how you move can make all the difference. So far you have displayed a good, innate ability, but it is not yet perfected. So, let us begin—work to get behind your opponent's guard; dodge at the last moment to throw them off, and so forth. Listen closely, and try and do as I say," he began, and the two listened attentively to his words. He explained it in troves and by the end of it, both were sure they would know what to do. It wasn't all that different from what they were doing, but it was certainly refining it and giving them more to work on. As such, they got started relatively quickly, and soon both were working to maneuver and back off and get into position as needed. It was after only a few minutes, though, that during a pause Mario chuckled suddenly, grabbing their attention.

"What?" Ezio inquired, not sure if he should grin back or not.

"Oh, it is nothing… only, I have not failed to notice you picking apart my library. I trust you believe me now?"

The young man paused, flushing a little, "I—yes. My father was an Assassin, although I suppose I have known that for some time. I believe I understand it after reading so much, but this secrecy… why so much of it?"

"You are familiar with the Templars, yes?" his Uncle asked in kind, and Ezio nodded, noting Catherine had mentioned them as had the books. "As they should. To put it simply: they are one of several Knightly orders formed during the Crusades. History teaches they disbanded nearly two-hundred years ago in France. Only, they were not—merely pushed underground where they continued their nefarious work."

"Catherine has mentioned some kind of 'work' as well, but what is it they do exactly?"

"Isn't it just… don't they use politics to control the world, right? Or try to?" the redhead added, and Mario nodded.

"Indeed. They seek dominion over Man. And we, the Assassins, are sworn to stand against them as I have told you before."

Ezio frowned in thought, "So… Uberto… he was one of these men."

"Yes, he was," his Uncle replied grimly.

"And the other names on my father's list?"

He nodded again, "Templars as well."

"That means Vieri… I would not think it, and yet…"

"He is just like his father, Francesco. It is likely the entire Pazzi family are Templars."

"Could that be why Vieri hated you so much? He knew about your father?" Catherine asked, but Ezio shrugged.

"Perhaps, but we have been rivals since boyhood, too. His father and my father would know, but Vieri? Still, it is no wonder he chased us down when we came here."

"That…would make sense. If it was just a rivalry he wouldn't bring all those guards, either."

"Indeed… this explains a great many things," the young man sighed deeply, shaking his head. "I know my father was an Assassin, but it is still so hard to believe he was doing all these things—fighting against all these men."

"Your father was a great man, Ezio, and you could very well become as great as he was or more—you take after him more than you know," Mario smiled warmly, and the young man returned it.

"He'd be proud of you," Catherine added, touching his arm. His smile grew a bit brighter as he gave a quiet "thank-you" in return.

"Indeed… and you must continue to make him proud," his Uncle chuckled, motioning for them to continue.

"Right, right—need to focus on training. I guess I should listen to you more, kitty-Cat," he mused, turning to the redhead, whom raised a brow.

"You're just _now_ figuring that out? Guess I need to beat you up a bit more. What do you think, Mario?" she asked as she got into stance.

"I think you both need to get at it before I show you both how it is to be beaten by a _real _warrior," Mario laughed, and the other two just grinned as they got to work.

**-O-**

Catherine sighed as she hopped out of the ring, rubbing the back of her neck. She was a little sore now, but that always happened right after. She'd be fine by dinner time, and she was happy to say she'd done a good job. Oh, she'd lost most every round, but she'd gotten one or two wins in, and she had kept Ezio on his toes. Once that would have still made her mad, but now she took it as it was and took pride in how much better she had gotten. It wasn't nearly as much as she would like, but he was taking what she could get.

She glanced over at Ezio, the young man dribbling with as much sweat as she was. He wiped it away as he rolled his shoulders, nursing the blow she'd landed on his back. He gave her a grin when he noticed her watching, and she just rolled her eyes—with a smile, of course—and headed towards the _Villa_. They were done now, with some time to spare before dinner. Mario had been including cardio in their morning training, and they jogged anyways, so there was no need for it in the evening unless they felt like it, which wasn't often anymore. It was all just exhausting, although they managed to wake up and get to it every day. Thus, they only had to wash off and wait for a good meal and then do whatever else they liked. For Ezio, that generally meant reading up on his heritage or going about the town, and for her it was mostly relaxing, but sometimes she went out with the young man. Tonight, she had a feeling she might stay in.

"What do you think Ghita is making tonight? I'm hoping for something with chicken," Catherine hummed as they ascended the stairs and made for the door.

"That sounds good, although I'm always up for anything that Ghita makes—especially after training like that. Got me good back there on that last one," he winced slightly, rubbing at the spot again.

"Sorry?" she grinned, and he just chuckled back. "Hey, just consider it payback for all your wins today. Anyways, come on. You just need a bath and you'll feel better."

"You know what would make me feel even better?"

One glance at his cheeky smirk was all she needed to know what he was thinking, and she shoved him playfully in response.

"Next one is a smack, not a shove," she snorted and brushed right by him inside. He snickered the whole way, and Catherine was only spared more antics by the timely arrival of his sister. The young Auditore made to embrace her brother, but then stopped mid-way as she caught whiff of him, and promptly avoided him. Ezio pouted briefly before laughing, and refrained from trying to hug her back.

"I take it training went well then? You both look like a mess, after all," she mused, glancing between them.

"You know us so well," Catherine snickered.

"Indeed; our sessions have been going good. You might even join yourself one of these days—Uncle Mario is very good at what he does," Ezio added, but his sister scoffed heavily at the idea.

"Do not even try, brother; you know what my answer will be. Besides, I would never do any sort of training with a man who dared to think to subject me to such torture!"

Her brother exchanged a look with the redhead, "'Torture'?"

Claudia sighed dramatically, "Well, I was discussing with Uncle Mario about things to do since I can only sew so much and it is getting rather droll around here, so he suggested that I _work_. Can you believe him? He wants me to work for the city—keep finances or something! It is outrageous!"

"Well, I mean, that's not a bad idea," Catherine mused, but then promptly held up her hands for peace when the young woman glared. "I just mean that, Mario could use help with that, and maybe we could finally get some things repaired around here! Your dad taught you about money and finances, right?"

"Er… well, yes. He did, but this is not the work of a lady."

"You are bound to be the most qualified, though; even I never got the hang of father's banking work. Why do you think he had me running errands all the time? You should do it, Claudia—we could use your sharp tongue and stubbornness to get this city up and running."

She raised a brow, "I am not sure whether to consider that a compliment or not… but… ah, I suppose I could… _consider_ it, but I doubt I will do it. Besides, we will not even be staying here for long anyways, right?"

Catherine had to work harder than she thought to hide her disappointment in that. It wasn't a great deal of it, but enough she didn't want it to show. Instead, she put on a happier demeanor, reminding herself that of course they would be leaving still. Ezio had said they would, and evidently this place wasn't enough to make them stay.

"You can still do some good while we are here. Come, surely you must have some ideas. Perhaps a new business? Or more merchants?" Ezio pressed, and his little sister sighed.

"Well, I _suppose_ I have thought of a few things," she mused, trailing off in thought. When she saw their expecting looks, she flushed a little and continued, "Er—that is… well, I thought, perhaps… well, the brothel…"

Her brother barked with laughter, "You wish to open the _brothel_?!"

"Oh, be quiet! I knew this would be foolish!" Claudia snapped, her flush deepening. Catherine frowned at Ezio, smacking his chest.

"What? I was just—it was funny! I never thought my sister would suggest such a thing! I certainly do not mind it!"

"Of course you don't," his sister huffed with a glare. "But it is not for _your_ benefit, I assure you. I happened to find old records, and the brothel brought in the greatest amount of coin in the city's golden days. Opening it would surely attract more customers and merchants, which would increase our profit and allow more shops to open, further increasing our income for other things—like more repairs to the _Villa_. Of course, we may have to open shops _first _to get the money needed for the repairs—the brothel _is_ rather costly."

"You know… she has a point. I remember talk of how the brothel used to be packed back in the day. If we got it fixed up and someone to run in, we might just start getting more people to come here with their business," Catherine shrugged. Ezio looked to her, a flicker of surprise in his features. He then looked to Claudia, whom appeared pleased to have the redhead agree with her.

"When you put it like that, it does sound like a very good idea… I never knew you were so wise in these things. The town will be forever in your debt if it works—especially the men," he laughed, and despite the lewd joke, his sister smiled in reply.

"And their _coin_ will make the city happy."

"Well, then what are you waiting for? You should tell Mario you want the job and get started. You obviously have what it takes to run the place," Catherine told her, but Claudia's confidence turned a little shy once more.

"I… I do not know…"

"Give it some time," the redhead smiled, grasping her shoulder gently. "Think on it and what you want. It's your choice, and all. So think hard and choose what you want to do. No matter what it is, it'll be fine."

Claudia pursed her lip, "I… will think on it."

"Just do not keep us waiting too long in anticipation," Ezio smirked, to which he received a "look" from his sister.

"Oh, yes, let us not keep you men waiting for your whores," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Ah, but I _will_ think on it. Even if only for a little while, I suppose it is something to do. But, that is a matter for later, and you two need to wash off. You smell _terrible_."

"Do we now? How about we share it then—maybe it won't be so bad!" Catherine grinned wickedly as she opened her arms to embrace the young woman.

"What—_no! _Stay away!" Claudia shrieked and promptly backed away. The redhead just laughed loudly and went after her, forcing the young woman to flee up the stairs. She didn't follow up, and Claudia turned around to stick her tongue out at her. She might act like she was above it, but the young Auditore was all too likely to act like the young girl she was. Of course, it was all fun and games, and so the redhead kept on chuckling as Ezio approached, snickering as well.

"It is good to see her finding a place here. Father would be proud to see her doing this work—taking up that mantle of his. He would have preferred Federico or myself, but…" he sighed softly, though still smiled.

"She'll do great if she does it. But what about you?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, a little confused, and she sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. "Um… well, I mean… Mario _is_ training you as an Assassin, and those men on his list… have you… considered maybe… seeing what he was on to? Taking up his work?"

"I…." he began slowly, folding his arms. When he did not answered again for a few moments, guilt gnawed at her. She shouldn't have said it. It was a cheap trick, too. She was hoping he would take it up—that he would stay. She didn't want him to leave, although it _would_ be good if he continued the work. He could stop a lot of bad people and help keep the world safe. At least, she told herself that was also why, but she knew it was more-so her own selfish wish. As such, she watched him carefully as he closed his eyes, breathed in slowly, and let it out just as slow. "I admit that I have… entertained the thought. The men he was after… I do not know them all, but… they _must_ be terrible if my father saw fit to have a list of them. And I'm sure Mario would agree—he may even know them. And then _Vieri_ is on it, and we have been enemies. It almost seems right, and yet…"

"It's your choice, too. I mean… I think it would be good if you did… but… you know," she replied, eyes falling some. She shouldn't push him—right? He had to do what was best for his family, and what if this wasn't? What if she was just being selfish?

"I know… I just… Like my sister I need to think on it. Things are so… so different. Everything has changed. Before coming here I would never have thought I would be here doing these things, saying these things, _thinking_ these things… even Claudia has changed so much, and I am still not sure if it is good or bad."

"Well… I guess… Yeah, think on it… but… if it helps… I think things have changed for the better—for both of us. You've grown a lot since you got here. You're definitely a lot stronger, and not just physically," she smiled, and he returned it briefly.

"As have you... and perhaps you are right—perhaps it had been for better. I guess only time will tell, but first I must finish training. You would think after all this time I would be almost done, but Uncle always has something to teach us it seems."

"Oh, yes. I've been here just shy of a year now—actually, it's been a year since we've met," she chuckled lightly. "Anyways, what I mean is that even after all this time I'm still learning, and we're both learning all these Assassin techniques as well. By the end of it, we'll be able to take on armies on our own!"

He stifled a laugh, "That's for sure. Ah, but I still have time to think, and there is still much to do. I don't know yet what is the best choice… but I will. One day."

"Well, I'll support whatever decision. Just make sure you make the one you think is right," Catherine replied, touching his arm. Ezio looked to her, and grasped her hand gently.

"I will try," he spoke softly, giving her a small smile before sighing dramatically. "Claudia was right about one thing, though—we _do_ smell. We should wash off. Shall we conserve water and do so together?"

"_That_ was your worst attempt yet. Looks like I'll be wasting water today like always," she hummed, walking right by him.

"Don't you at least want to know what you're missing out on?" he called out, grinning with a waggling brow.

"I've seen your chest before when you take your shirt off," she mused, turning at the top to face him.

His grin widened, "I didn't mean my chest—although I noticed you quite liked that little show."

"I mean, it's a nice chest, but there are better. Sorry, Ezio, but it takes more than a pretty face to woo me," she hummed with a wink.

"You must give me some hints then—how else might I garner your favor?" he implored, holding his arms out to her.

She leaned on the railing, brow raised as she grinned, "Oh must I now? Well, seeing as I love to disappoint you, I'm afraid you'll just have to figure it out yourself, which means you shooould give up. I mean, really, you keep persisting even after all my hints. What's with you?"

"I told you I like a challenge."

"Oh, is that all then? Well, consider this a challenge beyond your capabilities," she hummed, shifting back and forth.

"You know that makes me only want to try harder."

"All the more fun for me to reject you," she winked, but he only rolled his eyes with a grin. She sighed as she pushed up. "Anyways, you and I both need a bath—separately, mind you. So go on and get washed, have some good food, and get ready for more training tomorrow."

"Yes, _Mario_," Ezio smirked, and she laughed all the way to her room. There she closed the door behind her, leaned against it, and sighed a little.

Life had certainly had changed here. She knew hers had changed for the better, but Ezio's doubts made her own about him grow. _Was_ his life getting better? She _thought_ it was. However, as they both knew, only time would tell, and she hoped he could see it was better despite everything.

Unfortunately, all they could do for that was wait.

* * *

**24 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Aaaaand chapter done! Hope you all enjoyed that Catzio fluff. It's not as often as I'd like just yet, so there we are. Oh, and then Claudia there you are. Acting all like you._

_Speaking of... so you may have noticed I introduced the idea of Claudia running the finances of the city. Some of you may wonder why. Well, as we all know the game skips 1.5 **YEARS **during the training montage with Mario. In the book, Claudia and Maria were in a convent, but in the game is shows them just being there, so I ultimately decided to keep them in the city. However, I don't think Claudia would just sit there doing nothing for that long, so I decided to introduce her running the city much, much earlier. This also means the "repair/reconstruct/improve" concept of the game happens a lot earlier, too. _

_I find it works very well, so expect Claudia to start whipping things into shape and for her to start growing :)_

_And as for the two dorks... well, they still have a looong way to go. Lots of drama-llamas and other things, but they're kinda getting there. Catherine finally semi-admits she likes him ;p_

_That should be it for this chapter, so prepare for some more set-up for big changes and stuff! :'D_

_P.S. Ottavio really does have a bet on them... as do the other men, tee hee._


	26. The Hardest Part

_**TMWolf:** Alright, after that little filler kinda, it's time for another MONTAGE! Yep, time for monthly time skips to get to the big parts! Some feels in here, I figure, but I guess that's up to you guys :p Anyways, yeah; montage time to build up to a big moment!_

_As usual, how the canon characters act is based upon canon work and just how I have interpreted it._

_Now for some review replies:_

_**Guest**: Awww, I'm so glad this fic is such a big help for you! :) And thank-you for the compliment! It means a lot! xD As for your questions... Cat will end up joining Ezio. His feelings for her, however, won't be revealed for a long while so you'll have to wait and see what happens ;) I'll be sure to continue doing my best! xD  
_

_Seriously, you guys are great on your reviews! It's so awesome to hear all your thoughts and questions, so keep 'em coming! xD_

_Right, so this chapter's title is from Coldplay - The Hardest Part! It kinda fits in lyrics... I guess lol Anyways!_

_As I mentioned, this is a montage chapter so a LOT of time is about to go by with "snapshots" of what all has happened, so mind the dates!_

* * *

**25 **– _The Hardest Part_

* * *

**July 29, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Where is Ezio?"

Catherine looked up from her bracer, ever adjusting them to make sure they were just right, and found the light confusion on Mario Auditore's face. He was a little later than usual for morning practice, and she had noticed that had become common over the last week or so. He wasn't terribly late, but enough that she noticed and wondered why, but respected him enough not to ask. She held the same respect even now as she stood up, brushing her clothes off.

"Claudia asked for his help gathering things and get an overview of the city's condition—she would have asked the men, but they need ladders to get to the roofs. He asked me to apologize and tell you he'll practice twice as hard tomorrow. Claudia just really needed his help for this, since she's kind of doing the whole management thing now," the redhead replied with a shrug. "I can still practice, though—if you want to do a spar between you and me to start?"

Mario paused, thinking, and his features fell slightly. He looked haggard then; his shoulders sagging and a sigh escaping him. Catherine frowned with concern, but before she could ask he waved whatever was bothering him—or perhaps he'd heard her silent question—off.

"It is good timing, actually. I came to say there would be no training this morning. There is a matter I must see to outside the city. Ottavio will be handling the normal work in the training ring today. You should see if my niece needs more aid—otherwise, return to the ring and train as you used to," he rumbled, and although the redhead nodded, she didn't leave right away.

"Is…. Um… what's the issue—outside the city? You've… well, I mean, it's not my business, but you've been… aloof lately?"

Mario blinked, as if not understanding, but then shook his head, "It is nothing serious, but it is best I oversee it. Do not worry; I will have a few men with me if that is your concern."

"I'm hardly concerned about you handling yourself—you can whoop all of us. I'm concerned about what has you worried and looking tired," she pressed, hands on her hips and giving him the "look".

"It is nothing for _you_ to be concerned about. You need only focus on your training—you are almost ready to go on patrols regularly and take on what bandits may be out there."

Catherine sighed, "Mario… I know there's more to it. You wouldn't be this worked up. What's going on? Is the city in danger?"

"Catherine, this is not a concern of yours. My duty is to protect this place; yours is to become stronger and learn all you can here," he replied firmly, causing her to wince slightly. He was using the tone that he only brought out when he was mad without showing it, and where you didn't talk back. She held her tongue then, gaze falling.

"I… Sorry. I'll… I'll see if Claudia needs help," she mumbled, though paused before she could leave when the older man sighed.

"You do not need to worry, Catherine, I promise. I am not mad you wish to help, but this is not something for you to fret over. This is my burden, and the matter will be dealt with soon enough."

"…Okay," the redhead sighed. She smiled briefly, though, as she came over and put a hand on his arm. "Just… don't forget you aren't the only one who wants to protect the city. You don't have to shoulder things alone, either."

Mario chuckled, grasping the hand touching him gently, "I know, I know—I am the one who told you the same, remember? Ah, you are too kind sometimes, little one. Now go; see to Claudia or your training. Just let Ottavio know, although it is a half day, anyways."

"Sure. Just don't forget… and please let me know one day so I can help? I don't like seeing you stressing out like this."

"Perhaps one day," the older man smiled, patting her hand now.

'_But not today, huh?'_ Catherine smiled back silently, pulled her hand away, and headed off. She stopped at the courtyard entrance to the _Villa_ to look back at him. He was watching her, gesturing for her to go on. She smiled one more time before doing that just that, but her worries were hardly appeased.

What could have Mario so concerned? Why was he so weary? She couldn't think of anything per-say, and that was disconcerting. It had to have been something bad enough to get him worried, which meant it was bad-bad, but then why hadn't she heard of it? None of the men had whispered, and if there was a problem they would have. There hadn't been any news from the nobles, so what? What could it be?

In the end, she was forced to set the thoughts aside. There was nothing that came to mind, and she eventually focused more on inspecting the city for the damages at Claudia's behest. At one point she thought to tell Ezio—to ask if he knew—but she thought better of it in the end. Besides, she needed to trust Mario. She _did_ trust him. He could handle it, and surely he would tell her if he felt he needed to. So she kept it to the side and instead worked with her friends, flirting, laughing, and making jokes, and it helped.

Of course, all the while worry lingered in the back of her mind.

**-O-**

**August 10, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down on the roof at the end of the run. Ezio trotted right after and sat beside her, just as sweaty and panting as much as she was. Despite his winning in battle, she took pride knowing she could out run him. His legs were longer, so he could sprint faster her on the ground, but on the rooftops her smaller, more flexible body came in handy. On some climbs he was better, but she had proven better at finding the most efficient and fastest routes. Although, that was almost a moot point since she and Ezio had run the entirety of the city and knew most everything like the back of their hand. She still took pride, though, and so grinned at him.

"Have fun eating my dust back there?" she purred playfully. He paused as he always did when she used her weird sayings, but then laughed as he remembered what it meant.

"Oh yes—it was delicious. I won't even need dinner," he mused as he leaned back on his arm and let his legs splay out. "I don't know how you take those turns sometimes, or slip through those spaces."

"Flexibility. Maybe you should learn it," she laughed, and then laughed some more when he leaned closer, giving her that "flirty" look of his.

"Perhaps I should learn from the master?" he waggled his brow at her.

She kept laughing as she pushed his head away, "It's called learning to turn your hips. Now calm down. We haven't been able to enjoy sitting on the roof for a while, so enjoy it."

"As you wish," he snickered and lay completely flat, arms behind his head. He hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose it _has_ been a while. We've just been so busy, but lately we've finally had time. Uncle Mario is always off doing something, and Ottavio isn't as good at critiquing us…. What _is_ Uncle up to?"

"He said stuff outside the city. I figure maybe bandits are acting up or something," she frowned, looking back when he shifted and put a frown on his face, too. She hadn't actually told him since the day she's first suspected, and felt a little bad for it, but he seemed to have figured something was up, anyways. Then again, the other men had begun to talk, too; wondering where their Commander was; whispers of some city trying to fight them again—perhaps _Firenze_; it was possible he was on some secret mission to find another artifact; perhaps it was some negotiations with a new village; perhaps it was agreements for new men; perhaps it was a lot of things. The point was that nobody seemed sure. Even Ottavio professed he didn't know, but Catherine had a feeling he _did_. Still, they trusted their Captain and Mario.

"I would think that would be work for the soldiers… or even us, actually. He's mentioned wanting to send us out eventually," the young man replied, sitting back up as he kept his frown in place.

"Well, to be honest—we don't know much about his work, do we? I know he checks on the armaments and gets supplies, but we've only ever seen him working the recruits. Maybe enough of us are trained that he can do the other things?"

Ezio's frown deepened, "I hope it is just that. I wish he would just tell us, though."

"You know he's too stubborn. He's like you and me—he won't tell people so they won't worry and what not. I'm pretty sure he would tell us if it was something big," she told him, smiling a bit, but even as she spoke she honestly didn't know if she believed her own words. Not after the initial talk with Mario and how he kept saying not to worry, but he looked tired.

"I suppose you're right," the young man sighed, shoulders slumping some. She smiled a bit more as she nudged him slightly. He looked to her, brow raised expectantly.

"I am, so let's get your mind off it. Like… how's Claudia taking to the job?"

He chuckled, "You know how she is."

"Well, I want to hear it from you and how you two are doing."

"Catherine," he kept chuckling, but she did not relent.

"No, no, go on. Tell me. I want to hear. How do you think things are going?" she insisted, and he paused to give her a look before he sighed with a shrug.

"Good? As good as it can get, anyways. Claudia won't admit it, but she enjoys it. She is good at this new work; already she has found a good deal of extra money and has started repairs—especially to the stores and homes. I believe she enjoys the power that comes with it above anything else. She certainly enjoys bossing _me_ around, as I'm sure you've noticed when she has me run about with her, tending to her errands."

"Well, she was raised to be a princess—maybe now she's finally becoming a Queen, and we are her loyal subjects?" Catherine snickered, eliciting a laugh from him.

"We may very well be, but you seem immune to Her Majesty's orders."

She winked, "That's because I'm a Queen, too; one who doesn't mind letting the other shout the orders while relaxing together."

"Oh is _that_ it? No wonder you always try to order me around and get me to behave!"

"Nah, that's just me channeling Mario," she smirked.

He leaned forward, grinning cheekily, "And when you get mad over flirting with the maidens under your care?"

"_That _is me keeping my maidens safe from a boor," she snorted with a harsh look his way.

"You are a cruel, cruel regent, my Lady."

"Only because you're a terrible denizen," the redhead replied quickly, leaning back herself. "Now, if you are done being a dork, you can tell me… mm… well, um… Oh… uh… how's Maria? Is she…?"

His smile fell some, "She… she's still in mourning. I like to think she is better… she has noticed us more. She still does not speak, but… she… seems more… there, I suppose is the right way to say it."

"You haven't found anything to bring her around?"

"No… nothing—not yet. I know there is _something_, and I try and ask, but she shows no inclination to anything we say. She only eats and seems to sleep better, and she stares out the window more, but she only really leaves her room for supper. I just wish I could make sense of her mind, although I suppose I do not really wish to see inside it, either."

Catherine reached over to grab his hand, "You'll figure it out one day. She is getting better, though. She just needs time still."

"I suppose you are right. I worry for when we will be on the road, though—there may not be as much peace," he sighed softly, and her heart skipped a beat.

He was going to leave. They all were. Still.

She shouldn't have been shocked or even the slightest bit surprised. She _knew_ he planned to leave. He had said so from the start. Still, she'd hoped she could have changed his mind by now. It had been months. Surely he could see that this place was the best place to be? Surely he could see it was good for all of them? Surely he could see—see _what_?

Who was she kidding? Her desire for him to say was purely selfish and all her own. Was it so wrong for her to want it though? She thought it wasn't some time ago, but now her doubts were beginning to grow. After all, if she hadn't been able to convince him yet, then how could it be right?

Yet, she wished for it.

"Well… maybe… you should… stay longer then? Until she's better?" she pressed, and withheld her flinch when he pulled his hand away to rub the back of his neck. She didn't think he meant anything by it, and she was probably looking too much into it. She did that. She couldn't help it, though.

"I… maybe…. But… ugh, it's just… it's hard to know lately. I'm still thinking it all through, but I'm not always sure what the right course is. But there is still time to think. Mario said my training wouldn't be complete until I've done a few missions to at least gain that proper experience."

Catherine bit her lip slightly. She had time, it seemed—time to convince him.

"Well, that would be good to have. I know I'm excited to finally be let out there. There's generally not much since Mario keeps it so well protected, but, y'know," she shrugged, doing what she could to hide her anxiety of it.

"I assume we will be working together as usual?" he inquired with a grin.

She shrugged, "Probably. Although, maybe not—God knows the other men will start thinking those rumors _were_ true."

"Please; they know by now they're not true, and Emilio has been gone for months. He _should_ be dead!" the young man growled, glaring briefly.

"Mario made the right choice, and I was just kidding," she replied quickly, grabbing his arm to calm him down. "Although, with Ottavio making those stupid bets…"

"Ah, they're just in jest, and I knew you were joking… but just the thought of him makes me angry still! I wish I could have done more," he grumbled, fists tightening. Catherine smiled softly and leaned over so her head fell on his shoulder. He paused, surprised, and looked over at her.

"Trust me, Ezio, you did more than enough. So don't worry. Emilio isn't a problem anymore, and things are much better here," she replied, looking up at him for a moment before turning her gaze to the city. She felt his arm shift and wrap around her shoulder, keeping her close. Her heart raced slightly at the motion, but she didn't act on it—just in case. Instead, she gestured to the buildings. "See? All those happy faces out there, and they're going to get happier."

"Except that's because Claudia is getting repairs done and helping the income increase—not because that bastard's gone," he mused, but there was a small chuckle in there.

"Yeah, but it would have been bad if Emilio was still here, causing trouble. Could you imagine him taking orders from your _sister_? And it was obvious he wanted to oust Mario. Kinda. And _that_ would have been bad for the city."

He chuckled again, "Ah, yes… he would have hated being ordered by my sister… and I suppose you are right. As usual. Always right."

"It's a gift," Catherine snickered before leaning up. His arm slipped off as she stood and stretched, brushing off her clothes. "Just know you're doing a lot of good—it'd be a shame if you left. The city is kinda like a big family, y'know?"

"…Yes, I suppose it is—especially for you," Ezio smiled, and she looked back, blinking. He paused, too, and became a little sheepish. "Er—well, because your family is…"

"Oh," she replied, looking down and smiling only a little. "Right. Yeah. I guess it is."

Catherine looked back out on the city, watching the people moving about. Some glanced up, noticing her and Ezio and waved, and she returned the gesture. She did have a fondness for the denizens of this place, and perhaps they were like a family. She certainly felt some kindship with all the men, some of the shop keepers, certainly the Doctor, and Ghita was almost like a mother in how she disciplined. But family? No, she wasn't so sure. Maybe. Sometimes she thought it was, and whenever she recalled how she would most likely never return home, the thought grew stronger. Yet, when she remembered her home and her things there—her brick house, her dog, her friends, her mother; the thought grew faint and she longed for what had been lost to her for over a year now.

"Catherine?" Ezio's soft voice broke through her stupor and she looked back at him, standing up now as well.

She smiled a bit weakly, "Sorry. I was just thinking. Anyways, come on—Ghita should have dinner ready soon."

"And I am ready for it… I am sorry for upsetting you, though. I don't know what I said…"

The redhead held up a hand, smiling more genuinely, "You didn't. Don't worry. I really was just thinking—you know how I get when I do."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"Hey, it's my thinking that keeps you out of trouble," she snorted, flicking his nose playfully. He made a mock-yelp before grinning.

"I suppose I don't mind it so much for that then."

"Damn right. Now, let's get going. I'm getting hungry," she chuckled, stepping back to take a running start to jump to the ground where she landed, rolled, and was up again. Ezio joined her shortly after, and they made their way back. She did her best to keep the thoughts of home off her mind, and told herself _Monteriggioni_ was her home now, but in the end, it wasn't completely enough.

**-O-**

**September 15, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine stared at the pieces of paper in front of her, ink and charcoal etched into their surface. Others had touches of paint here and there, and she even had brushes splayed about her desk next to her various piece of charcoal, feather pens, and more parchment. The one in front of her was a mixture of the original two, the black color used to make marks that formed the image of a canine face—one she'd known for a long time. She could still see him now with his bright, sky-blue eyes surrounded by a black rim, set against a white face surrounded by black as well. It was her Siberian Husky, Bandit, and she missed him terribly. She wondered if he missed her, too, and told herself he did. They were jogging partners, after all, and they loved to play together. She loved rolling him around and making him woo, and the more she thought about it the dourer she became.

Frowning, she set the parchment down next to the others; one of her other husky, Dasher, old but still full of some life; one of her best friend that she hadn't seen in forever, but still missed and had talked to when she could; one a redo of Petruccio, Federico, and Giovanni when she had thought of them; one of Maria and Claudia; one of Mario and Ezio; one of her mother. She paused on that one, and lifted it up. She had drawn her to her best ability, and she smiled at the bangs and long hair surrounding her slightly-rounded face. Her mother had always been youthful looking for her age, and she hoped she'd captured that. It was hard sometimes to get it just right, but she hoped she'd done it. Maybe once she added colors it would be better. Before that, though, she had one more picture to finish on it; the face of the one missing member of her family just below. It was her father, and she was having the most trouble drawing him. She thought it was just because she missed him, but she wasn't sure. Of course, she'd never been good at figuring out her feelings—especially not about _that_.

Sighing—not for the first nor the last time—she set the paper back down. She had a good cluster of drawings made now, and she considered it a source of comfort in some odd way. Although, lately, they had become less and less comforting. It had started almost a month ago, and she felt it more and more. Still, she took what comfort she found in their smiling and happy faces. If anything, they helped keep their memory alive, and that _was_ a relief for her. It gave her some sense of warmth, and so she held on to that as best as she could. Yet, at the same time, there was sadness. All but four of the faces were ones she would never see again, and all of it was her fault. Either she had been too foolish to leave something alone, or she hadn't been strong enough. Either way, the responsibility fell to her, and she had failed it.

The redhead groaned as she pushed her hands to her face. This was supposed to be her day off. Mario had given them a rest day, and while most would be either relaxing or actually doing more work around the city or something _fun_, here she was drawing things that just made her sad and now she was moping. What was wrong with her?

_'Oh. Right. Everything,' _she grumbled as she let her hands fall, shoulders slumping. She let herself lie back in her chair like that for about a minute before she started shoving her woes aside. There was no point getting worked up, and like Mario had told her, there had been nothing she could do. Feeling guilty or wishing things had gone different wouldn't change it. She would have thought after all this time she would have gotten better with dealing with it, but instead the bad feelings just kept growing. It was frustrating and infuriating and depressing, really.

"And stop thinking about it," she growled softly as she took up the parchment with the finished drawing of her mom. She took her charcoal and began to work on the partially-done one of her father, doing her best to keep his face fresh in her mind. It wasn't as easy, and she lamented she didn't have her laptop or even her phone to use as a reference, but she was doing her best.

A knock on her door almost made her make a wrong scratch, but she stopped just in time and let the person know they could enter. She didn't look up as the door opened and closed, figuring it was either Claudia, Mario, Ghita, or Ezio. All had no qualms of coming in without really asking except for really Mario, and she didn't mind any of them coming. When she heard no one speak right away, she suspected it was the last of the group of people. Claudia would have made some huff about her cooping herself up and demand she come spend the day with her, be it going for a ride or helping with the city's repairs. Ghita would have mentioned getting something from her and or asking her with help with something around the _Villa_, which needed more work with its repairs going on, too. Mario could be quiet, but as she thought back, he was busy so it wasn't him. So that left Ezio. He wasn't always quiet, but sometimes he was when he saw her drawing, and, sure enough, he kept quiet as he loomed over her. She didn't actually see him doing so, but she could feel it, and paused as she finished up the eyes to turn towards him.

He wasn't looking at her, but at the parchment on her desk. A quick glance told her exactly which ones, and she flushed a little. His focus was on the drawings of his family she had done; be it those on the desk just right by her, or those she'd pinned to the walls or were stacked further along. She could see a swirl of emotions in his dark irises, and she thought perhaps he was sad most of all, but then a smile began to appear. It started slow and small, but soon enough he made a small laugh and motioned to them. Catherine smiled in kind as she picked up the ones by her and gave them to him. No words passed as he looked over them carefully, eyes roving every single detail on them. He took a long while, and she let him do so without interruption. She even waited as he made to give them back, but then paused. He bit his lip slightly before meeting her gaze at last.

"May… may I…. keep these ones?" he inquired softly.

She nodded, "Of course. I have more if…"

"No—no, these are just right… you captured them perfectly," he replied, looking down at them again. Sadness briefly crossed his gaze, and she knew he was remembering his time with them. It made her remember, too, and she mourned the fact she had only been able to spend maybe a month with them. She wished it had been longer. She wished she could go back and stay longer. She wished—she wished a lot of things, and most of all she wished she didn't have to see the sorrow that came upon Ezio's face. She should have been able to stop it, but she hadn't been strong enough. She couldn't even tell him that, either. She was left letting him believe _he_ hadn't been able to stop it; that his family died because he hadn't been able to do anything. He carried the burden, when it should have been her.

"I… good. I'm glad," she forced a smile, looking back to her table of works; unable to look at him anymore.

"Have I ever told you are a great artist? Leonardo would be proud. You took lessons from him, didn't you?"

"Uh, well, sort of," she chuckled some, thinking back on the artist. God, she missed him, too. She felt bad, but she hadn't thought of him for some time. Guilt wracked at her for that, too. "Mostly he let me work on something and gave me tips… I wish I could have given him a proper good-bye or at least see him again…"

"Perhaps you can write? I'm sure he would love it," Ezio smiled, settling himself down on the closed chest near the table.

She tilted her head thoughtfully, "I… I hadn't really thought of that. I got so used to not writing to keep up the ruse to you guys, but… well, I guess… maybe… but I couldn't tell him about you all, and I'm sure he'd want to know."

He smiled sadly, "Yes, I suppose he would… but you should still write—send some of your drawings. He'd love to see them."

"Maybe," she chuckled. "He's so much better than me—I almost feel embarrassed sending them, although I know he wouldn't say anything or what not. I'll see about it, though. It sounds like a good idea."

"Good. Oh, but, ah, I did come here for a reason," Ezio laughed lightly as his gaze fell to the drawings. His smile grew sad once more at the sight of them, but he didn't set them aside. He kept them in his hands, glancing down briefly once more. "Or, well, I meant to come see if you wanted to do something today before Claudia got us to do more work, but I see you're busy. Who are those two you are drawing now? The woman is quite lovely."

"Huh? Oh. It's… well, it's my Mom," Catherine replied, lifting the drawing up. "She looked like this, mostly. I may have some details off. Her hair was really long—even longer than Maria's, and it was blonde. A bit heavy set, but not too badly, and actually had skin not much lighter than yours. The other is… well, it's going to be my Dad. I'm not quite done. He had the red hair and freckles, which is where I get my good looks from."

"And temperament, no doubt," the young man snickered as he waved for the drawing. She held it out to him, and he examined it for a while before handing it back. "You have some of your mother's features as well. You must miss them."

"Yeah," she mumbled, gazing at the picture for a moment before remembering how it was supposed to be years ago and quickly set it back down. "But, y'know, like I said—I've had time to get through it all, so it's not that bad. Anyways, feel free to keep those and the others if you want. I've been meaning to do proper ones for a while… and sorry if some of the features are off. It's… it's a bit harder without a reference."

"No, no—like I said, they are perfect… I'm thinking of giving them to Mother, actually. I think she'd like them."

"Oh, yeah, definitely, yeah; give one to her. I really should have one for all of you or something. I've just been so busy with the training and helping with repairs on the city and just… this rest day has been the first day I've been able to really draw," she replied, waving her hands in gesture before rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

He chuckled, "Well, I guess I won't steal you away then."

"Depends—what did you plan on stealing me away to?" she hummed, folding her arms with brow raised expectantly.

"Whatever we felt like," Ezio shrugged. He paused, though, as a thought came to mind. "Although… perhaps you should draw. Mario has finally decided to send us out on a mission next week. We'll be staying at the other village for a few days, so we'll be out of the city for once."

"Ah, that's right. I think it's that trade town we visited before. Think you're ready? I mean, we probably won't find any action, but we do have to patrol the woods and if trouble shows up we'll have to potentially kill bandits if they show up and we can't subdue them."

He shrugged again, "I've killed before—I can do it again. What of you?"

"I can do it," she nodded, looking down to her upturned palm. She didn't have her bracer on, but it was just on her nightstand and she looked over to it, along with her sword that rest on the other side. "I've killed before, too, and we have to do it to protect the people..."

"We'll have each other's back, as well," he nodded assuredly, and she returned it. "When do you think we will go?"

"Hopefully soon. We need to test out our skills at some point, and if the rumors about trouble are true…" she trailed off, recalling stories from traveling merchants of danger in the countryside. They assumed bandits, but they didn't quite seem right for that. They didn't necessarily attack merchants or steal their wares, but they were an intimidating sight. It was said they wore red clothes and some were in armor, suggesting they were soldiers, but it still wasn't clear. No one doubted _that_ was what Mario was worried over, though, but no one knew who they were or why they were here.

"Indeed. Perhaps Mario is finally allowing us to handle some of this trouble," the young man rumbled, but she only shrugged.

"Maybe. I'm just hoping it's nothing serious. Probably some city or some band getting too big for their britches and trying to take what's not theirs. Thankfully folks like us are around to take care of them."

"Indeed. Just don't get too eager—these won't be like training."

Catherine paused, giving him a look, "Wait—wait—_you're _telling _me_ to be careful? _Really_?"

"Now, now, you have lost your temper plenty of times," he smirked playfully, and she snorted at him.

"_You're_ the troublemaker. God knows I'll be saving your ass from them most the time we're out there."

He barked with laughter, "Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. But if I do save you, I get a kiss."

"No."

He laughed again, "Oh, come now—is it so bad to ask?"

"Yes," she snorted again, giving him a look. "Because you're terrible."

"You always say that. Will I ever win your heart, dear lady?" he winked playfully.

"Haven't you won enough hearts already? Pretty sure all the young maidens have been tainted by you by now."

"Ah, so harsh—as always," he snickered. He paused a moment or two before standing and looking at the pictures once more. "Well, since you are occupied, I won't steal more of your time. I'm sure Claudia can find me work."

Catherine glanced to her drawing, but found she didn't really want to look at them anymore. She set her charcoal down and stood up, shrugging.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a break. Let's go see if the city needs some help. If we're lucky, the bakery lady will give us some sweet rolls."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled, after glancing at the unfinished work again. "Come on. Go give the drawings to your mom if you want and then we'll get Claudia."

Ezio watched her for a moment, regarding her as if trying to understand, but then smiled back, "Alright."

**-O-**

**October 20, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Field work was easy enough.

Mario sent them out not long after they thought he would, and they found themselves in the trade town they had visited before. It hadn't changed much beyond that the goods sold were in higher amount and consisted more-so of food than anything else now. The people were happy to see them, and the men they were to relieve were even happier. They hadn't come alone; two other men—older veterans—had come as well, and helped show them what to do. Their residence would be in the back of the tavern, which the owner of the building kept free just for them. It was away from the actual customers since there were more travelers coming to town now that word had spread _Monteriggioni_ was being spruced up. The town, too, was getting more business, so even if they wanted to use the normal rooms, they would most likely be occupied. It was fine, though; the tavern owner kept them well fed and clean and happy.

When not resting at the tavern, the group was out on their routes. They kept in pairs, switching off every other day for the week they were there. It wasn't thought to be safe to go alone since there had been sightings, but Catherine nor Ezio encountered anything when they went out through the woods to search. It seemed their enemy—whomever it was—decided to retreat for the remainder of September. That was well enough, and their first week went by smoothly. After that, they returned to the city for a few days to continue training and helping Claudia with her management work and repairs to the buildings, and then they were back out to another trade town. This one was to the east and was far less occupied. At most it was more like a village where farmers and miners would go to after a hard day's work. They were much the same, and again there had been little to no activity in the last bit of September.

The first week of October had gone much the same, but as they moved out to the third town—this one selling almost exclusively farming goods and supplies—Catherine and Ezio encountered their first signs of trouble. It was thankfully just a small group they found out in the woods, ready to ambush a route that some farmers took with their carts. It was clear the group's aim was to kill, and it was a lucky break they found the bastards near their end of their search. A quick surveillance told them all they needed to, and they did not waste time ambushing the soldiers. They attempted to keep one to interrogate, but they refused to yield and death became the only outcome. It was only maybe four men, but it was still worrisome. Unfortunately, their attire was not all recognizable, although Ezio mentioned it reminded him of the soldiers he'd encountered back home when he left. He didn't know what that meant, and he supposed he could have just been imagining it since the soldiers appeared to have no connection with the men on his father's list or those from _Firenze_. They were forced to let it be, and for the remainder of their time there were no more soldiers—not in their area at least.

That, of course, led to quite a bit of down time, but they made the most of it. The third town wasn't as big as the first, but the inn there was full of merriment and people to talk to, and when they tired of the large group, they were able to get away into the woods to find a place to relax. Catherine personally enjoyed that the most and the talks she could have with Ezio. It reminded her of back in the city, and they always managed to have fun and make jabs at one another. That, and she just enjoyed the attention. Despite telling herself she shouldn't, she let herself think maybe he thought she was special with all the time he gave her and how he seemed to want to spent time with her, too. She couldn't deny she was always excited to be around him or have little banter-fights or just have him near.

However, when she thought about it, she had to remind herself it was just how she was, and this wasn't the first time she'd felt this way. It had happened once before, and she knew how that had ended, which hadn't well. Furthermore, she had to remind herself Ezio was going to leave, or was at least still considering it. Also, he was just teasing. Flirting. He wasn't being serious—else, why would he flirt with all the other women? He always did that. He might be playful with her and talk, but he was always happy to go tease other women and steal a kiss to make them giggle and waggle his brow, and she knew one time he had left with one to a bedroom. It stung far more than it should, and she had to remind herself it was only natural; he had always been a ladies man, and they weren't together or anything. She didn't accept his advances, so of course he would run off with a woman. She knew it was silly to get upset over it, and it was her own damn doing, and if she liked him she should just say so, but in the end she knew she couldn't. She was too much of a coward, and there was just no point. There was no way he could feel the same, and she had to keep reminding herself he might leave. There was no use pining after someone who might leave in the end.

Yet, she couldn't stop how she was feeling. She could, however, kept it sealed shut, and that was exactly what she did. She had her ways, and she used them even as they talked in the woods, lounging on a rock in the sun. It was getting cooler as winter approached, but it was still warm enough to get a small sweat going.

"Think we'll get in trouble for being lazy?" she inquired as she looked over at him. He was lounging back, braced on one arm while a knee was propped up, the other leg out stretched. She was on her back, both knees up and knocking together, and her hands behind her head for a pillow. He looked over at her and tipped his hood back so his face was visible now. His beard had gotten thicker lately—enough to where he might shave. He still preferred his place plain, although she thought he looked fine with the facial hair.

He grinned, "Only if we get caught. Besides, there has been no trouble here, and we have a few hours to go—we can easily run the route and scour the area in that time."

"Sounds good then," she mused, and decided to sit up, leaning back on her arms. "So. What do you wanna talk about today?"

"Mmm… I'm not so sure, to be honest. We've talked about quite a lot."

"Yeah, I guess… well…. Has anything _special_ happened in the past around this time or anything? Any other fond memories?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Mm… well, there is the story about Marco—that soldier that watched Federico and I when we were little boys—."

"—And your mother couldn't handle you. You've said that one," she snickered, sticking out her tongue.

"Huh. I suppose I have… What haven't I mentioned?" he rumbled, thinking more seriously now. It took a few moments, but he suddenly perked up, recalling something, and even smiled. It faded in the next moment, and he sighed a little. It wasn't sad, per say, or even depressed. It was more of just—_something_.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and he waved off her concern.

"Nothing—it's just… I remember I met Cristina in October. It was when Federico told me how to properly woo a woman and I failed miserably," he chuckled, but there was pain there. Her heart clenched; he still thought fondly of her. Of course he did. He'd loved her. She knew that pain. It had taken her years to get better, but she hadn't had anybody. It seemed she and everyone else wasn't enough for him, though. He sighed again, leaning up. "Ah, that was a good night. I met Cristina and beat Vieri… it seems so long ago… I miss it."

"I know," she said softly, looking over at him and feeling her heart break from the guilt and sympathy.

"Even now I wish they were here… I know I always will. I'll wish I had been able to do _something_… but I know it's too late and I can't change anything, but _still_… I just miss our old life. I miss the city, our home, our friends, everything. I would give anything to go back and stop it all," he replied sadly, staring at the ground.

"I know," she repeated, the guilt becoming a knife that tore into her gut. God, she hated this—this keeping quiet. It wasn't right, and it only worsened as she realized how selfish she was for liking him; for thinking he could like her. How could he when she had failed his family? How could she think he might ever return affection when she could have saved them but hadn't been strong enough? There was no way, and she hated herself for having brought him this agony.

"Does it help—time?" he asked suddenly, looking to her. "Does it really get easier?"

She swallowed hard, hating her lie, "Yeah. It does. It helps when you have people to talk to, as well… and if it helps… do you want to know anything about my past, too?"

"…Maybe. I don't know," he managed to chuckle, shaking his head.

"We have time… and I guess there's stuff you don't know… umm… well, how about… well, apparently I was a trouble maker as a kid—I ran off a lot and scared my parents half to death. Wanna hear those stories?" she tried, and he cracked a smile. It was all the signal she needed, and she began her tale.

She began many more after that, and he, too, said some of his own. He spoke of a fight with Vieri; how the little bastard had thrown a rock at his brother, but ended up breaking a window on the Ill Duomo, nearly getting them all in trouble. He recalled doing a similar act to Federico, but had pulled a shingle free and tossed it at him because he was being an ass. He recalled a race where he'd beaten his brother in the woods outside the city and Federico pushed him into the river. He told her of how he and his brother would steal each other's women, and he laughed all through the story of how he'd stolen Claudia's undergarments and hung them from a flag pole once. She had beaten him relentlessly until he got them from her, and his mother had been so cross. All of them made him seem a bit happier, although the sadness of the loss was there.

All of them made her guilt grow, too, and it was a starving beast that devoured her insides. It only grew worse as she told her own lies. Oh, there was a hint of truth to them, but ultimately they were lies, and he believed them; he believed her. He _trusted_ her and she was lying with every breath. She had to, though. She had to lie. He couldn't know the truth. She couldn't bear him hating her, and yet she suffocated underneath the hate for herself.

She could only hope she could hold on, but that hope was fading fast.

**-O-**

**November 27, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

The air was cool as Catherine pulled her cloak around her, eyes roving the surrounding area. Her horse plodded through the light layer of snow on the ground, the first of the winter. It had happened later than usual, but it was here and firmly in place. It had come almost as a surprise with how warm it had been until nearly the end of October, but now the summer was for sure over, and things were slowing down. Fewer animals were about, and crops were limited. Trade in towns simmered down to hand-made goods and the like, and merchants coming through the countryside had dwindled to a meager trickle in comparison to the warmer months. Even _Monteriggioni_ had settled down, although Claudia still found the money needed to keep repairs going. The city was much better now, actually, and it wouldn't be long before the brothel could be started on with its repairs—that is, if they managed to keep things going as they were.

_'If the stupid men attacking these places would stop that is,' _she rumbled uneasily, scanning her right again for the tall-tale color of red against the bleak white. There was nothing, though, so she kept her horse going. As it so happened, the attacks on the towns and villages had increased in the past month, and she didn't doubt it was planned. With resources becoming scarce, it was harder to keep men stationed outside of _Monteriggioni_. Still, Mario sent them out, and she and Ezio were at the original town, keeping an eye out for anything in the wilds. Thankfully they hadn't found anything in the three days they'd been here, but there were three more to go including today, and it was only about noon.

"Catherine!" the familiar voice of Ezio called, and she turned to see the young man trotting his horse towards her. Although his Assassin gear was thick, he, too, wore an extra cloak around his shoulders. With the air cold enough for their breath to show, it was sorely needed, and she certainly wished she had her sweat jacket and jeans, but they were back at the _Villa_, and it wasn't like she could wear them anyways. The cloak was working, though, and the sun, when not behind clouds, did a good job of keeping them warm.

"Did you find anything?" she inquired as she slowed her horse for him to catch up. He shook his head as he came up beside her and pulled off his hood.

"No, but that is not a bad thing. Are you almost done with your area?"

"Yeah—just a bit more and we can head back. God knows I wouldn't mind sitting by the fire. Gonna be a cold winter this year or something," she grumbled, pulling her cloak closer again. "Kind of surprised the men in red haven't shown up again. We fought some the first day out here—my shoulder _still_ hurts from that one asshole-but then that was it. They've been so active lately, so they've got to be out there, right?"

"I don't doubt it, but we should be grateful they've decided to be wary and stay away. The winter must be hard on them, too, and since their apparent plan to strike us when we were weak has failed, perhaps they're retreating?" he offered as they continued on, both scanning the area.

"That sound about right. Least I would think that's the way to go. No one wants to be out in the cold, and they can't find proper shelter without causing trouble, which means we'd find them. And fires will make them extra noticeable out here. Not to mention they have to get supplies from either towns they ransack—again bringing attention to them—or from where they came from," she added, humming thoughtfully. "I just wish we could have found one to interrogate or _something_. We haven't even been able to really track them back to where they're from, although we did find that encrypted letter. We can't make any sense of it, though. At most, someone thought they were coming from somewhere further north in _Toscana_ because of their accent, but that's not entirely reliable. I asked Mario, but he's keeping tight lipped until he knows more."

"It is all just frustrating. I don't know how Uncle stands it," Ezio chuckled, shaking his head.

The redhead snickered, "Why do you think his hair is so gray?"

"Oh is that it? I thought it was from having to handle fiery redheaded women."

"Well, that, too," she grinned impishly. She slowed her horse as they came upon a rock, where she made a hum. The young man waited for her, noting she was thinking. She sighed as she rolled her shoulder and turned her horse. "Actually, looks like we can head back now. I've been by this rock before—I guess I was farther along than I thought."

"Fine by me—I am ready to get out of this cold. Wouldn't mind some warm soup, either," he rumbled, blowing some hot breath on his hands.

"Same. As much as I love winter, I only do because it means I can eat warm food," she chuckled and urged her horse into a trot. He followed right after, keeping pace beside her.

The way back was a little longer than either of them liked, but they reached the town soon enough. The stable hand took their horses to keep warm while they returned to the tavern. Their other two companions were either still out or already in their rooms, and with so few people at the moment they were left alone in their corner with their meal. Conversation wasn't much—to content to eat and warm up by the fire—but as they got through their food, they talked of casual things; the usual things. There was mention of the city and the _Villa_ looking far better. Even the garden looked nice despite the coming winter, and it was expected it would flourish the next year, or at least more than it had in ages. The city was faring better, too, and a good amount of buildings were patched up. An artist had taken up shop, and a tailor was soon to be set up with Dea as its main seamstress. In short, city life was becoming much better.

Catherine only wished it were the same for the two of them, and for the family in the _Villa_. It hadn't escaped her notice that a somber cloud had settled over the Auditore family, and she was not safe from it. She had seen Maria regress back into a more sullen state—sometimes she would not come to dinner. Claudia, normally so boisterous, had become less outgoing. She still barked her orders, but she was a slight recluse as well, and she rarely had a sharp retort for Ottavio—something they had apparently become fond of doing. Mario himself appeared more somber at times, though he had work to hide it behind. Ezio was the worst, though. She saw it in his eyes; saw his burden; saw his shame, his guilt. She saw it even when he smiled, and she knew why. The date was coming closer, and the memories getting stronger and heavier. She felt it, too, although the worst was seeing how it affected him.

"Three—er, two more days, not including this one, and we can head back. Mario said we'd be free of missions for December, too. Go back to training to keep our skills up," she spoke after a prolonged silence. He blinked, no doubt having been lost in thought, and looked at her. He made an "ah" and nodded.

"That… would be nice. As fun as these have been, I wouldn't mind being back home. Claudia has mentioned she hates when we're away—says the _Villa_ is too empty," he smiled a little. Of course it was empty, though. Half her family was gone.

Catherine smiled back, "Well, it'll be full again soon. Just you wait. Christmas feast will be better this year. Ghita thinks so, anyways. We still have over a month until then, but the city gets pretty lively around then."

"Ah, yes. _Firenze_ was always busy and loud with people singing and merriment. It was… it was a fun time," he chuckled softly, eyes glazing over. "Petruccio always loved it. He could never play in the snow long, but he liked to go out and make things in it… or throw a ball of it at Claudia. She has a fierce throw—be wary to not anger her when the snows come harder. Federico and I had to team up on her to win, and then we'd turn on each other. I always loved to shove him into piles, and he did the same."

She laughed, "I wish I had siblings to do that, too. I liked making snowmen, though… oh, uh, you take three big balls of snow, each bigger than the last and stack them on top of each other. Biggest on bottom, smallest on top. Then you take two sticks, put it in the sides, and you have the arms. You used rocks or something to make eyes and a face, and you have a snowman."

"I have known you over a year now and you still confound me," he laughed in kind, shaking his head. She smiled back, just glad to see she could get the smallest bit of happiness out of him. It seemed so hard these days, and so she clung to every moment.

"I do my best," she replied playfully, taking a final bite of her soup. She glanced around, and spotted the other two men coming in. She waved to them. "Looks like they're back, too. I don't think they found anything, so looks like we can relax."

"Could use a relaxing night. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Probably the cold weather," he mused, but even a blind man would have seen it was a lie. She didn't call him out on it, though. She couldn't. It wasn't right. She didn't have the right.

"Get some sleep then. I'll let the boys know what happened."

He glanced at her, then back down to his food, poking at it, "…Yeah. Thank-you. I think I'll take you up on it."

Ezio didn't linger for much longer—just enough to finish his food, bid her good night, and slip away. The other men came to sit beside her not long after, mention how they'd found a campsite, but it had been deserted for at least a day. Their tracks had been covered by the snow, so no one knew where'd they gone, but they should keep an eye open tomorrow and to be ready tonight. She told them they would, and she took up a vigil for a long while—at least until the moon was high and few people were out. One of the other two men came out then, and let her head to bed. She wasn't as tired as she thought, but she figured she could try. She stopped outside Ezio's door, though, noticing there was a flicker of light inside. The door was open just enough to see through, and there she saw Ezio leaning over on the bed, his back to her. He was just in his plain shirt, gear set aside, although he kept his sword and hidden blade close. His head was down, but on his left were pieces of parchment—her drawings, she realized. Of his family.

She pulled back, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. She looked away, too ashamed to see if he was okay. Too ashamed to keep looking. Too ashamed to lift her head as she walked to her room. Too ashamed to say anything else as she readied for bed.

Shame consumed her, and followed her all the way to her dreams.

**-O-**

**December 17, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine watched the three of them—Mario, Claudia, and Ezio. She leaned against the _Villa_ wall at the staircase while they stood at the entrance of the building, speaking solemnly to one another. They were trying to be cheerful as they spoke of things to come; of the repairs, of the new armaments, of the _Villa_'s restoration, of the brothel's coming restoration, and so forth. It was still going smoothly, and new shops were to be opened to bring yet more income in. Mario was so proud of them both, and he said as such. Claudia assured him it was easy work, and said she had a system all laid out. Ezio, like-wise, said it was easy work, too, and he enjoyed it, and his Uncle just laughed and said he would make it harder then.

Yet, even as they laughed, she saw it—the darkness there. She saw the sadness, but how could there not be? In almost two weeks it would be the anniversary of the death of a father and many brothers. It was be the anniversary of the end of the life Ezio and Claudia knew, and the day Mario took on the burden of continuing their family's legacy in his nephew. She could feel it, and it weighed heavy on her shoulders. Almost every waking hour she thought of them, and she found herself staring at the Clock that had remained in her pocket only out of habit these past months. It had been almost forever since she had given it a second thought, and now it was her focus. It was her reminder. A harsh, heavy stone that threatened to drown her, or maybe it had already done that. Whatever it had done, every time she looked at it she saw the gaping faces; the screaming maw of horror and agony and accusing glares. She should have looked away, but she couldn't. She _needed_ to see them.

Catherine sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She could never watch the three of them long. Her guilt had only grown and swelled more and more with each passing day, and once she had begun to recall the images the Clock has given her, it was almost the only thing she ever felt now. The lies only fueled it; having to constantly tell Ezio half-truths about her life, and about where she'd come from. It burned her with every word, and she wanted to tell him the truth. She _needed_ tell him the truth, but Mario had told her not to. He had said it was safer, and she believed him, and yet—and yet!

She glanced up at the group again, and caught Ezio looking at her. He spared her a small smile, and she miraculously gave one back. That was all she could muster, though, and then she turned away. She gazed at the city, wanting to find comfort in how alive it was despite the winter upon them, a blanket of white coating the entire place. Of course, she found none, and she warred in her mind and her heart.

Mario told her not to say anything. To lie to them. To keep them safe, but was it? Was it keeping them safe? Didn't she owe Ezio the truth? Didn't she owe Claudia the truth? Didn't she owe them both the truth about why she'd come here? Or was it better to say nothing? But how could it be? How was it better to let Ezio writhe in his agony, letting him believe it was his fault? How was that better at all? He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve this pain. It was her fault. It was her fault they were gone, not his, and he needed to know that. She couldn't bear to see him like this—not anymore. She feared his wrath, but enduring that would be better than this. It was better than watching sorrow destroy him over these months and eat him alive. Anything was better than that.

Catherine pulled the Clock from her pocket again, grasping it tightly in her fingers. She hated it more than ever, but it fueled her resolve—if she could even call it that. No, she was terrified, really. She was terrified to tell him, but she knew she needed to. He had the right to know. She had to tell him, despite what she'd been told.

So there it was.

Tomorrow.

She had to tell him tomorrow.

The truth.

Even if it made him hate her, she would tell him everything. She would face that gauntlet, and she would give him his release.

She just prayed she could be strong enough to withstand it.

* * *

**25 **\- _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And chapter 25 is done! Hope you enjoyed the montage and build up... so, as you may be guessing-Catherine is about to reveal her big secret! And everyone is basically sad face around here. Obviously for good reason, but yeah. Sad faces everywhere._

_Also, obviously there are some big deviations from the game in that Mario never sent Ezio on missions, but I figured it was something to do during the 1.5 years of training besides training, because, I mean, he's not taught much, and I figured, what the hell? Besides, Ezio goes on lots of side missions in the game, so it seemed like a good idea. Not to mention Mario DOES have random batches of Mercenaries out in the country-side-why else besides for a game mechanic, ha ha?_

_So. Yeah. Catherine and Ezio are out on missions, and all the while her guilt grows! So what will become of things? You'll find out next chapter ;p_


	27. Secrets

**TMWolf: **_It's update time, guys! Sooo the big reveal chapter is today! You heard that right-Catherine's gonna spill some beans and be the farking most awkward beaver ever. Seriously, you might want to face palm yourself into a wall with how she gets, hehe._

_As usual, how I write the canon characters is based upon my interpretation of the canon :)_

_Now for those lovely reviews that make my day reading. Seriously, it's great to read all your comments/questions/etc.!_

**_Ezicat ship_**_: For future reference, I call it the **Catzio** ship... but I'm ready for it to sail, too! Too bad these dorks are friggin' dorks and take for-ev-er *groans*_

_Right, sooo... today's chapter is One Republic's - Secrets! Kind of fitting, although maybe not perfectly in line with the lyrics, but hey it works! xD_

_And that should be all for now, so enjoy!_

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**26 ** _– Secrets_

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**December 18, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

One wouldn't think it was hard to just go up and ask someone to talk to them in private, but it was already ten in the morning, and Catherine hadn't been able to say more than a hello and the usual pleasantries to Ezio. Any attempts to ask to speak with him somewhere to tell him everything he deserved to know left her with her tongue tied and her gut clenching with anxious fear. She ended up just saying something different or so stupid that he looked at her weirdly before he laughed it off and then that was it. It happened every single time, and Catherine couldn't believe how ridiculous she was being or how it could be this _hard_. It shouldn't have been! It should have just been so easy to go over to get the talk going and just say _everything_.

Yet here she was, slapping a hand to her face once Ezio was beyond the door, out of sight, and unable to hear her make a loud sound of frustration. If she were near the wall she would have hit her head against it. She felt so stupid being like this. She just needed to _say_ it. Just tell Ezio they needed to talk and take him out to the gardens away from everyone else and tell him the truth. It was simple! Wasn't it?

_'Uuuuuuugh, this is getting ridiculous. I just… I need to calm down. I need to relax and then ask him. I'm too worked up… just need to get the nerves out. Just go out and help Claudia with the town. There needs to be some more repairs to things, so go out and do that and then ask him after or something,' _she sighed mentally, rubbing at her brow. That would have to be the ticket, because she didn't really have any better ideas besides the original, which wasn't working.

So, with a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and headed out of the _Villa_. It was a Rest Day, today, since it was snowing a bit too much and the air was colder than usual. Mario had deemed it not a good time to train—they could resist a lot, but he knew when to not push his soldiers and when not to have them fight. If it were a battle, it might be different, but this was training, and the city could use their help in repairs. The city-folk helped keep them warm with that, providing hot soup and breads, and blankets and cloaks to wrap around themselves. They also left their doors open for the men to come inside if they needed to sit by the fire for a while.

She was no different, and she kept her black cloak close as she stepped out into the light snow fall. It had been worse a few hours ago, but now it was tolerable. She puffed out a thing of steam from her hot breath and looked out on the city. It was covered in plenty of white, so most repairs would probably be on the ground or indoors.

"Catherine, come on—Claudia told me where we're needed today," Ezio shouted from the stairs, waving at her. She paused to sigh again, but nodded, and hurried after him. She might not have been able to ask him to talk, but she could still work with him. Oh, sometimes it got a little awkward, and he gave her an odd look, or he noticed when she wasn't talking as much as usual, but it wasn't like she couldn't be around him.

"What place is it today? Are we doing more to the artist spot?" she inquired as she walked by him, going around the ring.

"No, not today… speaking of, though, you should have them sell your works there," he grinned, but she just scoffed.

"Heeeelll noooo. No way. I could never do that. Now hush and tell me where we're going," she huffed, smacking his arm lightly. He laughed in return, and told her it was a house in the corners of the city, which hadn't got much work yet. He told her of the repairs to the windows and walls that were needed, and she listened closely, watching him. In part because she was hoping to find a moment to ask him, although it wouldn't come, but also because she was looking for the cracks in his happy façade. The work in the city had given him a wall to hide behind, and he kept up a strong face around her and the others, but she knew how he was. She'd seen him alone sometimes, staring at her drawings he'd asked to keep, and saw how forlorn he was.

She hated it, and that was why she needed to talk to him, and maybe if she just saw it again she could have the strength—but, no. He had too much to focus on, and soon they were joined by more men who kept their attention off the dour woes of their hearts. It worked well enough, and a part of her hated herself for being able to be distracted. She should have been pushing the issue, but instead she let herself be swept away in the jokes and laughter and the hard work. She let her muscles ache and her body chill as she placed her nails and swung her hammer. She would keep an eye on Ezio, though, and while her plans were waylaid she would do what she could to keep him happy—_really _happy. Or at least try to.

"Alright you two—come on in! Your soup is ready!" a voice called from below, and Catherine looked over the edge of the scaffold set up to work on the windows outside. It was Ottavio who summoned them, and he would most likely be taking over their shift later on.

"Coming!" she called, putting the tools into the crate they had up there, and then motioned for Ezio to follow in suit. He nodded, and they hopped down and relished in the warmth of the indoors. Ottavio joined them, and the woman inside—Cecilia she recalled—served them hot bread and soup. There were essentially no vegetables, and not much meat, but it was warm and that was what mattered.

"You're doing good work out there. With any luck we'll be done by the evening," the Captain mused as he drank some of his soup down.

"We should have most of the buildings fixed up then, right?" Ezio inquired, gnawing on his bread.

Ottavio hummed thoughtfully, "Well, at least on the outside. Work is still needed in the interiors, and there's plenty of additions that would be good to get done. New tables, shelves, and the like. But your sister is doing well to bring money in. The tailor and artist shop is helping immensely, and once we get more materials we can finish up the brothel and _that_ will really help."

"Will there even be women for you guys, or will it be the first brothel for _women_?" Catherine snickered, wiggling her brow some.

Ezio laughed loudly, "Perhaps that is not such a bad idea! I'm sure the lovely ladies would gladly spend their coin, no?"

"Most of us are _married_, Sir Auditore," Cecilia huffed, giving the young man a dirty look. Ezio just grinned innocently while Ottavio chuckled.

"We can potentially coax women from the outside towns to come here—they would get more customers. What we really need, though, is a Madame; someone to run the brothel."

"There's bound to be someone, right?" Catherine shrugged, and got shrugs in return. She downed a bit more of her soup and bread before she waved at the Captain. "So, do we have replacements, or do we head out again?"

"It's all you guys today—the others are spread out doing other work. Some of the wall needs patching, too, and other parts of the city need work. That alright?"

"Sure. We've got a good thing going on the windows here," the young Auditore nodded and downed the rest of his. "I'm fairly warm again, and we're almost done—shall we finish up? We might be able to relax some then."

"Sounds good Go on out, and I'll finish up eating soon," she smiled back. He returned it, thanked Cecilia, and headed out. Catherine watched him go, her expression falling once he was out the door. She sighed a little and dunked the rest of the bread into her soup so it became soaked and then finished it off. The soup would have been next, but she paused as she saw Ottavio watching. There was an odd look to his face, causing her to shift a little sheepishly. "Um… what?"

He gestured to the door, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"_That_," he urged, raising a brow at her. "That sad face. What was with that? Ezio's been weird lately, too. You both are. You're both just so uneasy around each other."

"It's… it's just… stupid. I'm just trying to talk to him, but I keep chickening out on asking," she grumbled, hiding herself in her cloak's front some. Ottavio's eyes sparkled mischievously as he grinned even more so.

"You are going to confess your love and I can win my bet?!"

She almost threw the bowl at him as she flushed, "_No!_ I told you I don't have any for him like that! It's not that! It's… it's something else."

"Well, if not that, then what? Because it tends to be only romance that women have trouble speaking about to men. Right, Cecilia?"

The woman raised her brow, "Do not presume to know women, Captain. You haven't managed a wife since you got here."

"You will have to forgive me if I have specific tastes then," he smirked right back, and she just rolled her eyes as she made her way into the kitchen. He chuckled before looking back to the redhead. "What's so difficult to speak about that you can barely even talk normally to him?"

She sighed, deflating some, "It's… something… well… personal. I just… I just need the right moment to ask."

"So never then?""

"No—I'll ask him to talk!" she insisted, but Ottavio only raised his brow and folded his arms, seeing right through it. She groaned and downed her soup to set the bowl down and run a hand through her hair. "I will… I just… I'm too scared to."

"Good grief… you are willing to have your ass beat every day but you can't bring yourself to ask him to _talk_? Mario would die from shame after throttling," he rumbled, shaking his head. Catherine scowled as her cheeks went scarlet, but he held up his hand for peace. "Easy. You know what I meant, and I know what you meant. You need to just say something now, or you never will, and it will eat at you and ruin what you have. I've seen it happen enough to know. Stop dancing around it, and just go outside right now and ask him to talk after work or dinner or whenever is good."

"It's not _that_ easy," she grumbled back, although she knew it was. It honestly was that easy. All she had to do was ask. She just had to open her mouth, make her tongue move, and there it was. Just say "Can we talk?" and that was all she needed to do.

"Only because you're making it hard. Just go out there, do your work, and just say it while out there. Doesn't matter when, just do it today, or I'm going to make you fight me in the ring, and I know you hate that."

"Ottavio—."

"Ask, or fight me. Those are your choices. Captain's orders."

He used the tone—the one Mario did; the one you didn't disobey. Catherine sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. She was either going to push through her reluctance, or she was going to receive one of the worst beating of her life. Ottavio was honestly the worst—both in the ring, and outside it. He _was_ right, though, and they both knew it. Still, she groaned, dragging her hands down along her face before she slumped and let her head hit the table. Thankfully, the Captain did not go on with his tone, but he did laugh and clap her shoulders.

"Just know you're lucky you're both young—if you fuck up, you have a lot longer to get over it."

"That doesn't help!" she grunted, smacking his arm away, and he kept on laughing.

"Well, get on then. The windows won't fix themselves."

Catherine gave Ottavio a dirty look before sighing yet again and standing up. She pulled her cloak close and brushed by him, heading back out into the cold. Ezio was already hard at work, nailing wood or setting stone into place. She paused below the scaffold, repeating Ottavio's warning and words. It was easy. Just tell him, or she'd have to fight the Captain. Frankly, either option was terrible, but really there was only one.

_'Well, here goes nothing_,' she grumbled silently, making her way up.

Nothing was exactly what happened.

Even with the threat, she stumbled over asking him, and again he chuckled, wondering what was wrong with her. She just sighed and told him was noting and got back to work. This time he regarded her for a more before he, too, returned to work. Most of it was in silence this time around, and she felt awful for it. She didn't know what he was thinking, although he was all smiles and jokes and what not, and she was left feeling all the worse. Still, he acted as well as he could except for the small pauses in which he looked so far away, and she knew what he was thinking then. He was looking back at the memory of his family, no doubt recalling those wonderful days back at the _Palazzo_.

It both hardened her resolve, and made her all the more a coward.

So things went on like that, and even after they were done. The work didn't honestly take long; a few more hours in the cold—and about thirty minutes inside—and they had what work they'd been given done. Cecilia was incredibly grateful and offered yet another bowl of soup, but both of them preferred the sanctity and warmth of the _Villa_ at the moment. It was especially desired with the snow picking up some, thickening the blanket on the ground. The streets ultimately cleared out, and many of the men had returned to the Barracks for the time being; the rest either went somewhere else or held themselves up in the homes they were repairing. None in the city were against it, so it was a welcoming comfort.

Catherine was just happy to be indoors again, and this year the cold did not permeate into the building. With all the walls and windows fixed—although always in need of sprucing up—the house was warm and allowed her to give their robes to one of the male servants. From there, they ventured into the study where Claudia was hard at work, discussing reconstruction plans with Mario and their head architect; all standing around the diorama of the city. Ezio would talk with them, too—especially when he had taken a role of helping to bring money in by finding people to come. That, and Claudia made sure he helped her with handling the money and more. Personally, Catherine just saw it as the two siblings spending any time they could together when they most needed it, but it was helping a great deal.

They stayed a little to discuss what they'd done and more work on the brothel, but it probably wouldn't be until the spring that the building would be done. Despite its potential profit, the people came first, and the city needed to be fixed, so that was still to be the focus. That was for tomorrow, though, and Catherine and Ezio were done for the day. She tried to ask him then. She caught him on the stair case, and even grabbed his shirt, and he looked at her expectantly. She almost did it. She almost asked him to talk to her, but then she shrank back and told him never mind. He opened his mouth as if to speak to her, but the closed it, chuckled, ruffled her hair, and told her to go rest—she was obviously exhausted from work. So she went back to her room, shoved her face into her pillow, and let out a loud, loud groan of frustration.

Of course, the frustration didn't stop there. Oh, no. Catherine tried again, and again, but either ended up not finding the right moment, or would divert on to a tangent or make some joke or _anything_ to just not ask. Ezio was none the wiser, and would leave calling her silly and noting she was acting so strange lately, and that was it. Every attempt failed, and she felt more and more stupid with each one. She still had to try, though, if only to avoid fighting Ottavio—at least, she told herself that, and so she resolved to try one more time. For it, though, she had to head up into his room. She'd seen him stalk off there, and although she got into the hallway and to the stairs, she paused there. She grasped the rungs, took in a deep breath, and told herself everything she had before. She had to do this, and she told herself he deserved it. She reminded herself of all the times she'd seen him look so sad and how he was just torn over what had happened; how he blamed himself.

It was enough—just barely.

Catherine forced her legs to move, pushing up off the ground and then off each rung until she was to the next floor. She breathed in deep and kept herself moving. If she stopped now she knew she would never do it. The worst part was to come, though, and it was knocking at his door. Indeed, she paused there; lifted her hand to knock, and waited as she chewed her lip. She pulled her hand back to smack her face, quietly saying to just do it, and so lifted her hand to knock again.

The door opened then, and she ended up wide-eyed as she looked into the raised-brow expression of Ezio Auditore. He didn't look nearly as surprised as she was. In fact, it seemed as though he'd expected her, and even leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. She coughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, and shuffling her feet some. Ezio let out a deep breath of air.

"Catherine, what's going on?" he asked and she flinched slightly.

"Um… it's… ah…"

"Catherine," he began again, unfurling his arms so he could grasp her shoulders. "What is it? You've been like this all day. You keep acting like you want something, but then you end up flustered. You can talk to me, you know. I don't see why you think you can't."

"It's not that—or well, uh, actually… I, uh… I guess it is," she groaned, head falling back. She looked at Ezio again, whom looked right back; fully expecting her to answer. She sighed this time, waited a few moments, and turned her eyes on the ground. Somehow, that made it a little easier. "I… Ezio… I… I need… I need to talk to you."

"Okay," he replied instantly, and held his arms out to give her the okay.

She rubbed the back of her neck, "Um… I thought… maybe… more… alone?"

"You mean away from everyone elsewhere no one will hear?" he asked, and she nodded after a moment. He made a thoughtful sound before nodded, too. "We can meet in the garden after supper—if it is not snowing. Otherwise, we can wait until a day it isn't, and I will make sure you do not flee this time."

She flushed, "I didn't _mean_ to the other times I just—I was… it's…"

He chuckled, cupping her chin, "Catherine, you need to calm down. You won't be saying much if you keep like this… so take this time to gather your thoughts and we will talk later… although, if it's to confess your undying love, then I'm already quite aware and am only glad you have finally given in."

"I—wait—_what_!? No I am not confessing to you, you dork!" she shouted back, smacking his arm, and he laughed.

"That's better. Now hold on to that, and we will talk later," he grinned, and Catherine flushed again.

"Yeah, okay."

He chuckled, ruffling her hair some, "You don't need to worry. Nothing you have to say will change things."

"Right," she managed to smile, but even as he reassured her again and she turned away to calm herself down and gather her thoughts the doubt lingered.

After all, what she had to say would change everything—wouldn't it?

**-O-**

The snow had stopped falling some time before supper, but the thick blanket remained with the sun blocked by the gray clouds. It wasn't much warmer, and as night came by it was colder still, and so Catherine kept her cloak close around her as she stood in the gardens. She was closer to the back, standing on the upper ramp at the wall, and pacing some. How could she not, though? She was nervous. She was finally going to have her talk with Ezio, and he was going to learn the truth about her. Mario had told her no every time she'd consulted him, but that had been months ago, and now she couldn't bear it any longer. She couldn't bear seeing Ezio in pain, so she would endure the cold and this wait.

It didn't make it any less agonizing, though, and thus she paced and blew warm air onto her hands as seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. She would keep looking back at the _Villa_, hoping to see him in the darkening light. She had her own lamp out so she could see, and she assumed he would, too, but for now the garden was still dark. Catherine sighed as she finally turned towards the wall and leaned on the stone face. She kept her lantern close to keep her warm as she stared out at the dark landscape, noting the various tiny dots—fires and lamps lit in their homes or men on their watch. She wondered if any of them ever had these moments, but then laughed. There was no way in hell anyone else had _ever_ been in her situation. She decided to just pretend, though, if only to feel a little better about herself.

"Enjoying the view?" a voice called, and she jumped. Spinning around, she found Ezio holding his own lantern up, in his cloak and Assassin gear to keep warm.

She managed a slight smile, "Sort of. Little too dark to see."

He chuckled, coming up beside her. He set his lantern down next to hers and looked out at the landscape as well. He hummed as he folded his arms on the stone, leaning forward on it.

"Unfortunately no stars tonight—too cloudy."

"Unfortunately. Hopefully it won't snow again soon… I think this talk might go a while," she laughed a bit pitifully.

He gave her a smile, too, "Well, it's not so late, and we have the lanterns to keep warm. Of course, we can always share body heat, too."

"Jesus, Ezio, come on!" she laughed, shaking her head at him. She settled into a short silence then, again gazing out at the land. She sighed softly, and he waited just as quietly. She leaned up after a minute, bracing herself, and then turned towards him. Briefly, she looked at him, and then back down as she rubbed the back of her neck. She sighed once more before she finally spoke. "I… Ezio… I've uh… I brought you out here to talk because, um… I… I've been… lying to you… for a long time."

"…Lying?" he asked, and she sighed again.

"About… about everything—where I'm from, how I got here, _why_ I'm here. I'm… Ezio, I'm not from England."

"…Where are you from then?"

She paused to look at him, and even in the dim light she saw his confusion, and was it concern or something else there beside it? She wasn't sure, but it was too late to go back now.

"I'm… I'm from… a place called America—the Unites States of America. It's made out of fifty states, and I come from one of them… and it hasn't been discovered and won't even be a country until the seventeen hundreds. I come from almost three hundreds year after that—the year two-thousand and ten."

Ezio was quiet for a long while, his face contorting as his brows scrunched and his lips creased together. He sat up straight, arms folded over his chest. Catherine braced for the worst. It was out there now, so there was nowhere else to go, and if it made him hate her, then so be it.

"You say you are from this… 'America'—from the year two-thousand? From the _future_?"

She hesitated, "Y-yes… I'm from the future."

"That…" he began, and she flinched again, looking down and grasping at her cloak as she waited for him to on. Instead he hummed, tilting his head slightly. "…I suppose that… explains a _lot_."

"…_Huh_?"

"Well, you were always rather odd and unlike most women in this day and age… and you did appear out of nowhere. Your story was reasonable enough, but it always did seem a little… _off_… and, well, I admit, I ah… I overheard you and Mario talk once—of something you couldn't tell me. I can only assume it was this, so it just all… makes sense, I guess? I mean, I _do_ have countless questions, but it just… I don't know—it fits you. But why did you hide it all this time? Mario made it seem like it was so urgent."

"I, ah… that is… wow, I just… you are not freaking out and that's weird. Okay, _uh_," Catherine tried to reply, but found it hard to form the words suddenly. She had expected so much more from Ezio—so much more craziness or something, but here he was completely calm. It just didn't make sense. Somehow, she managed to keep going. "It's... uh, because, well, uh… how I, uh, got here. How I got here is why."

"Well, how did you get here?"

"Um, uh, oh, uh hang on," she stumbled, still dumbfounded, and shuffled through her pocket to bring out the Clock. He recognized it at once and reached out to take it, but she pulled back. "Wait—it… well, it burns people if they touch it besides me. It burned your dad."

"Really? But how is that possible? What _is_ it?"

She sighed, looking down at it, "Well, from what I know, it's a time machine—that is, it's a 'magical' artifact that can move people through time. It moved _me_ through time. I was… okay, so my family—my mom and some extended people—and I went on vacation to Scotland because we have a family castle in there, and I managed to find a secret room with stairs, and I went down there, and I found this in a chest with some letters, and then I cut my finger on it and then… there was… a lot of light and… I saw this—this _man_. I don't remember everything. I can get parts here and there, but it's hard to remember it all, but the man spoke to me. He was like a ghost or something or like a God or whatever, and he told me what I had to do, and then there were more lights and then I was unconscious and then I woke up in _Firenze_ and this thing—this Clock—brought me to your dad. I… I know it's crazy, but… it's… It's real. It works. It's um… Mario, your dad, and I… we… we all know it's a Piece of Eden—you remember what you read in the books and paper? Well, this is one of those, and it controls time. It brought me here, and I've been lying to you this whole time because this thing could be dangerous in the wrong hands—not that it even works anymore except when it wants, which is almost never, and um… yeah. That's uh… yeah."

Ezio had said nothing. He just stared at the Clock in her hands, and now he was looking at her. He had his chin in his hands, thinking, and she glanced between the ground and his face. She wasn't sure which she could stand looking at, and she worried over what he was going to say. Did he even believe her? It seemed like it, but she wasn't sure. What if he hated her and she hadn't even said the worst part? She didn't know what she would do then, so she just stood there and waited for him. There was nothing else she could do.

"This, uh… it's kind of hard to believe… you're… _sure_ this 'Clock' can do all that?" he inquired skeptically, and she didn't blame him.

She chuckled, "Mario and Giovanni asked the same. I'm sure. For one, it brought me here… and… it… well, it _tells_ me things. Sometimes. Or it did. When I spoke with your dad, it told me about the Templars and the Pieces of Eden, and even your dad's name without ever meeting him. It… well, it doesn't work much anymore, but… it did…last year. It… it showed me what happened—at the trial."

He froze, eyes widening, "You saw—?"

"I saw them… the hanging… I saw Uberto and the other man next to them… I saw you come through the crowd… It showed it to me when they were hung right before when I wanted to get rid of it. It showed me when they were captured, too. I saw it all. I saw them attack everyone, and I saw Giovanni curse them and Uberto lie about some documents and… it… I saw it…"

"But… how? You weren't even there," he rumbled, shaking his head with disbelief.

"The Clock showed me a vision. I… actually, I had a dream… the night they were captured. That's when I saw that. I had a dream. It told me what happened, and I…" she paused, her voice choking some. She brought the Clock to her chest, her gaze falling with shame as she bit her lip. Ezio noticed at once and touched her arm, calling out to her. She sighed even deeper this time, body slumping. "Ezio… I… the Clock… it showed me what happened, and I told Mario about it, but… I should have… I should have gone when it did—it showed me before it happened. It gave me a vision of the future but I did _nothing_. If I had done something—if I had just convinced Mario… I could have…"

Ezio's hand faltered, falling some. His eyes widened again, and pain flickered across them. He pushed it back as best he could and touched both her shoulders, shaking his head.

"Catherine, you and I both know there was nothing we could do…"

The redhead shook her head, and shrugged his arms off, "But I _could_ have! I could have done something! It told me what would happen but I did nothing and—and… Ezio, I… the man I mentioned… he… he told me a lot of things. A lot of them I don't remember, but I do remember one clearly. He told me I was being sent back to help someone—to help the Brotherhood. The Assassins. I was supposed to help your father and your family, or I thought I was. I'm sure I was… but… but I failed. I was sent back to help, but I was too weak and too stupid to help. Giovanni even sent me away because I was too weak and a lability, but even after all my training with Mario it wasn't going to be enough. I wasn't strong enough, and I didn't act when I should have, and I failed them—I failed _you_. I could have saved them, but I didn't. I didn't, and I'm so sorry, Ezio. I'm so, so, sorry. I should have done something. I should have done—done _anything_! But I—I…."

"Catherine."

She had been staring at the ground shamefully as she went on, and although his calling out to her had cut her off, she didn't look up until she felt his glove on her cheek. Even then she was reluctant, but in the end she turned her gaze upwards, her eyes starting to water. She thought she would find hatred or blame, but as always he astounded her. In his eyes she found only that warmth he'd given her ever since he'd come here. There was only kindness and comfort and it made her heart clench all the more. How could he _not_ hate her? How could he look at her like he always did? How could he not be yelling at her? How? _How_?

"Catherine," he called again, and it was hard to keep his gaze, but she did. "You were the one who told me nothing could be done, and the same can be said for you. Even if this so-called man and this Clock brought you here, there was still nothing that could be done, and it was not your fault. To blame you would be as wrong as blaming myself, and I'm sorry if you've felt like it this whole time. I had no idea. I was blind to it. It is _not_ your fault, and never think otherwise."

"But… I did fail… the Clock won't work anymore… I can't go home."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed again, leaning into his hand some, "The man—that God or whatever—said I could only go home if I helped your family… and now it won't work anymore. It hasn't worked for a year now, and I… I can't go home. I can't go back. I can't go back to my mom or my friends or my time…"

"You're certain? You are sure this 'God' meant my father? The Assassins are more than just him…"

"I'm sure. The Clock brought me to him. If not your family, then who else?" she asked, but then shook her head and a moment later, pulling away from him. "It's… it's too late now. I can't go home. Mario says I can stay here, but… ugh, don't worry about it. There's nothing I can do. I messed up, and that's all there is, and… well… now you know the truth. I'm the girl from the future with a time control device that doesn't work."

Ezio let out a soft chuckle, smiling warmly, "It is no wonder you constantly confound me… but you should not lose hope, Catherine. Why send you back when you were not ready? That is just too cruel. So keep hope. I may have lost my home, but yours is still just waiting for you to return. Your… mother, was it? She is waiting for you… although, I thought she had passed on."

Catherine looked to the young man, managing a small smile back. She even chuckled a little and wiped at her eyes were tears had threatened to form. She glanced down at her Clock, once more wishing it could take her back home, but knew it never would, and so returned it to her pocket. She rubbed the back of her neck as she let out a deep breath of air.

"Yeah, I, ah… might have mislead you on some family details," she grinned slightly. "And… thanks, Ezio. I can't guarantee I'll hope, but… thanks… and thanks for… not freaking out. Seriously, though—I think _I'm_ going to freak out about you not freaking out."

"Truth be told… I suppose I _should _be angry. You and my father were lying to me all this time… but… I know you did it to protect me, even if I would have preferred to have been told. And if I am no longer angry with him, how can I be angry for you doing the same thing? That, and… well, after all I've seen and read, this doesn't seem all that strange. The Pieces of Eden were told to have had great power, and Uncle told me what he found beneath the city was one of such artifacts, which drove his men to madness… and there was one record of someone suggesting acts of God were actually these artifacts. I do not think all of that to be true, but I know you are not lying—not now, anyways… and as I said; it explains quite a lot about you. You never were like all the other women—even those that cross-dressed."

"Well, I guess I'm lucky then… and I think I owe you a lot of explanations about things."

"I would not mind it… in fact… I take it my father had you train because of your Clock?" he inquired with a slight smirk, and she nodded. "So he sent you to Monteriggioni to train as well?"

"Er, actually, no. He didn't want me to join the Order at all," she explained, and briefly looked down as a slight nerve was struck. She'd almost forgotten. Giovanni had thought her too weak or too dangerous or both to join. She shook it off, though, as she looked to the _Villa_. "He originally wanted me to go to England to join their order for protection, but they're having some conflict I think, so he sent me here instead. I decided to train despite his wishes. I thought… well, I hoped to convince him I was strong enough and reconsider letting me help. He, uh… he refused outright at first."

"Really? I admit, I'm surprised…"

"Yeah, well, you only saw me after six months of training. Before, I barely held my own, and, well… the Clock, when it worked, _was_ dangerous. Just imagine if the Templars got their hands on it! Or, well, actually, it's only ever worked for me, and it burned your father when he tried to take it away. So I guess the big concern was if they got _me_ and tried to make me use it. Not that I can control it anyways, but still."

He hummed, rubbing his chin, "That would be a travesty… but if it does not work now then it is not a problem. Perhaps… well, perhaps it is a good thing it doesn't work then."

"Maybe… but… still… my mom," Catherine smiled sadly, and found her hand in Ezio's, his fingers squeezing.

"Forgive me—I did not mean it like that. I hope you may return home one day. It's not right to be apart from one's family… I know all too well, and I miss them even more terribly now. I'm sure you've noticed, and I admit it has made me blind to your own agony… I wish you would have told me sooner; it was painful to watch you trying to speak with me like this."

She flushed, "Yeah, well… Mario said it was safer for you to not know, and I thought he was right, but then… I saw you looking at the drawings I made and how sad you were, and you've been distant, and I just… I knew you thought it was your fault they were gone, when it was mine… or well, I guess since we both keep saying it, it's neither of our faults, but still… you were so sad because… y'know, and I just… I couldn't stand seeing you like this. I knew I owed you the truth—especially after everything, but I was scared…"

"You? _Scared_?" Ezio laughed, and she huffed as she tore her hand away and folded her arms.

"Yes, _scared_, you jerk. I was worried you would hate me because I was supposed to help them, and I didn't, and then I'd lied to you the whole time, and I thought you would think I'm crazy or be weirded out by the truth and… I don't know—you wouldn't want to be around me anymore or something."

He laughed again as he put his hands on his hips, "How could I ever _hate_ you? Catherine, you've done so much for me and my family! You've been there for me when I needed you most and you've helped me become stronger. I could never think less of you just because you came from some future, even if it is incredibly silly sounding and makes me think you're recounting some fairy tale. That or you are drunk or mad from training!"

"I am most certainly _not_ drunk nor am I mad, so I assure you it is the truth," she pouted, glaring at him slightly, but then smiled and laughed, too. A brief pause followed, and she didn't know why or what had come over her, but she suddenly embraced him. She wrapped her arms around him tight, and pressed her face into his chest. Ezio did not waste time returned the embrace, chuckling softly. She smiled, "Again, thank-you. I'm glad you're okay with it, and I promise I won't lie about this stuff anymore."

"And I'm glad you won't—especially because I have so many things to ask you now," he grinned, which she returned sheepishly as she pulled away and stepped back. "For instance—what is this 'America' like? Are all their women like you? And how is it they speak Italian, too?"

"Italian?" she frowned, but then gasped and laughed. "Oh! Right, I forgot. The Clock does more than time travel. It's a translator. And knowledge library or whatever, but definitely a translator. Back home, English is the main language, but America is actually a big mixing pot of all kinds of cultures—Italian, German, English, Arabic, Russian, Asian, and everything. I actually haven't spoken a lick of Italian in my life, but the Clock translates what you're saying for me and me to you. In fact, right now, to _me_, you're speaking _English_. But to you, I'm speaking Italian, right?"

"That… okay now _that_ is unbelievable. I think maybe you might be getting sick from this cold," he hummed with a wry grin.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not. But, anyways… no, not all women are like me. More are than now, and we have a lot more rights than we used to—like women can have jobs that men had and we're supposed to be equals, and… oh! Um, right, sooo I can't exactly tell you everything about the future. I know you won't do anything with it, and I honestly don't know anything really about Italian history, so it's not such a big deal, but it's just… well, I don't want to take the chance of accidentally mentioning something I shouldn't and changing the future. Does that… make sense?"

"Well, as much as anything else, but I won't force you to tell me something you don't want to. If you feel it is not 'safe' or 'alright' to tell me, then don't… but I would like to know more about who you are—the _real_ you."

"_That_ I think I can do… just don't expect an explanation for everything because of the future-in-danger-business. But… I'll do what I can."

"Then my first question would be about your parents—you said your mother was alive?"

She chuckled sheepishly, "Ah, right… yeah, I, uh… well, there is _some_ truth to what I told you, but… my Mom _is_ alive. My dad… he is dead, though—he died a few years ago, but from a sickness that can't really be cured. Also, I didn't have servants and didn't live in the country, but I did have a two-story house that was pretty big."

"Ah… I am sorry for your loss," he rumbled, but she shook her head.

"Don't worry about it—remember how I said it gets easier in time? Well, it does… although we weren't nearly as close as you were," she mused, looking out to the landscape. A chill breeze came through then, and she saw snow falling. She pulled her cloak closer and picked up her lap. She met his gaze as she motioned back to the _Villa_. "Hey, how about we talk about this inside instead? People should be asleep, so I'm not too worried now."

"Sounds like a grand idea to me. I would rather not catch cold," he replied as he, too, pulled his cloak closer, grabbed his lantern, and headed back with her.

"Same…," she grinned, but then paused as a thought came to mind. "Umm… by the way… I, ah… I don't know if I want to tell Claudia yet. I know I will eventually… and maybe it will be tomorrow or the day after, but… don't say anything—not yet, okay?"

"Are you sure? She would understand…"

Catherine nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure. I _will_ tell her… just not yet. Besides, she has other stuff to worry about."

"Well, I am honored to be one of the few that knows."

"I'm glad I finally told you. I was so worried, but now… It… it feels good to tell someone else. Giovanni would let me talk to him about it, but Mario didn't care all that much. He would talk about it a little, but not as much, but now that you know…"

"I will be happy to listen, and I told you nothing you said would change things. You need not worry so much," Ezio chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug.

She laughed, "So it seems. I'm sorry I doubted you. Just know that the future is a very, very different place. If you get scared, I'll stop."

"Me? Scared? Ha! You underestimate me, my dear Catherine. I am more than ready to handle anything you have to throw at me."

"Oh ho? Is that so! Well, ready yourself, little boy. You're about to get a crash course in the _future_," Catherine laughed, and as he joined her the relief she'd felt a flicker of in the midst of her worry swelled and enveloped her. It gave her such warmth and joy, she wondered why she had even worried in the first place.

At last, after months of her agony, she felt like herself again, and now she could really focus on helping Ezio. First, though, she would tell him all she could, and he would know her for who she really was. She was more than ready, and with this step—knowing that Ezio still accepted her despite everything—she knew things would be alright.

* * *

**26 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_So how 'bout that Ezio being chill as that last level of hell, yeah? I considered having him more shocked, but... I dunno. I didn't see him being too, y'know "WTF IS THIS" or mad at her or anything considering all he's been through, either on his own or with her... sooo yeah. He's pretty nonchalant about it, and Catherine ends up being the one to freak out, hehe xD Obviously, his crash course will get a little intense and confusing, but he's willing to listen :p_

_But yeah, so we learn some things about Catherine this chapter! Like, for one, she's from America (no state named, sorry, ha ha!), and the state of her family. Yes, her dad is dead, buuut it's not really a major plot point so don't see it come up much except to like... for moments when dads and death are brought up, I guess? Or things like that. But, yeah. Not really a plot point, per say, but part of her background and potentially a source of some little... thing of hers, kinda. Maybe. We'll see if it comes up ID_

_Anyways... sooo Ezio is going to get Cat to finally tell people some stuff about her! :'D yaaaay, right? Anyways, so the big secret is out and everyone is happy!_

_Of course, if you've noticed a pattern with me, it's that I just can't let people stay happy hehehehehe _


	28. Mother & Father

_**TMWolf**: Sorry I did not post yesterday-some family emergency/health issues have come up, and it's not looking good. So, things have been a little hectic around here, and I haven't had as much time as I like, but I'm only technically a little late on this post. Next week SHOULD be on time, but just letting you know it may have to be delayed. Also, I'm potentially getting a job soon-I'm hoping to-which means updates may take longer. I don't know for sure yet on anything, but I'll be sure to give more clarification (if I can) next chapter!_

_As usual, how I write the canon characters is based upon my interpretation of the canon :)_

_For now..._

_Guest reviews!_

**_Laurel:_**_ Ha ha, well, I figured he'd been through enough to not get too crazy about what happened ;) If she had told him earlier when he was still upset about things with his dad or still confused then he would have been more likely to be angry, but now? Naaah. xD Anyways, so glad you enjoyed it!_

_As always thank-you soooo much for all your reviews! I love reading all of your opinions and questions, so feel free to ask them! :)_

_Today's chapter is from Broods - Mother &amp; Father, and I felt this was a pretty good song lyric-wise and a little title-wise. It's also a great song if you like pop/alternative!_

_Second to lastly, this is another montage! In fact, we're going all the way to just before the fight with Vieri! Yep: WE ARE ALMOST BACK TO THE MAIN GAME! YAAAAAY! xD Anyways, enjoy very long time skips and all the events that go among it~_

_Now the last thing is a shout out to my good friend, Topkicker26, will be posting her story soon (or already has by the time you read this). It's also an Assassin's Creed II fic with her own great OC, Trish, and it's got a "surprise" pairing, too! It's titled Nemesis, and I highly recommend checking out out and sticking with it, because she's the one who helped me get this going, and we've actually "borrowed" some ideas from each other or helped "spring board" them off each other! Also, watch out for cameos from either of us, because we definitely do that, ha ha._

_Now onto the show!_

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**27** – _Mother &amp; Father_

* * *

**December 20, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"So, it's normal for children—even girls—to go to school for… twelve years, you said?" Ezio inquired as he munched on a piece of bread, freshly stolen from the kitchen after dinner. Beside him, Catherine also chewed on her own, snickering as she finished off the lump.

"Yup! We start from kindergarten when we're babies basically—I don't even remember how old, so like... grade zero, and then we go all through elementary to middle school to high school, which ends at twelfth grade, and then we go on to college or university where we learn about more specific subjects, which will be about what we wanna do for our future job. It's kinda like what you were doing. Sort of. Your Dad was gunna teach you banking, anyways, but we don't get apprenticeships really unless you intern or something. I wouldn't be doing that even if I was back home yet, though—you generally do that in your third or fourth year of college and then graduate after the fourth. From there you can go to a higher set of schools call Graduate School and you get a higher degree, and with more schooling you can get a PhD. I was still in College trying to get the lowest degree—a Bachelor's—in geology. That's study of Earth."

His brow scrunched, "You can obtain a 'degree' in the study of the Earth? What would such a thing be used for?"

"Well," she snickered some more. "You can do a lot. You can research how the Earth's surface moves and predict what it will do, and you can figure out the history of the Earth, too. Like the world is actually millions of years old—not thousands, and wasn't made in seven days."

Ezio paused mid-chew, and stared at her, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Catherine just grinned and soon laughed.

"And here I thought you really _were_ from the future! I see now you are just mad," he scoffed.

"Oh, but I am—and your time still has much to learn. Anyways, have I satisfied your curiosity about why I'm more intelligent than you are despite being a woman?" she winked, and he made a face.

"Perhaps if woman are all as arrogant as you?"

She jabbed a finger at him, "Hey. It's _confidence_, not arrogance. And technically I do have more knowledge. I bet you don't even know how to take a derivative."

"Whatever you say," he chuckled before finishing the last of his bread. He let out a deep breath of air then and laid back on the rooftop. For once, the skies were clear, so they only had to brush off yesterday's blanket. There was still more snow to come, they knew, but for tonight it was a good time to lay out and talk—with two lanterns, cloaks, and blankets, of course. It was still a little cold, but they were keeping warm and comfortable. Frankly, just talking served as a good distraction from the weather, and already they had talked for at least an hour.

They had conversed a lot lately. Ever since she'd confessed the truth just two days ago, he'd had her tell all about her life—her _real_ life. She'd told him about where she'd come from, and how she'd lived, and about her dogs and her childhood. She told him as much as she could within reason and what the world was like, and he had found that mind-boggling. He'd asked the most questions about it yesterday, and she'd laughed and enjoyed telling him all about it, although making sure to refrain from telling him _how_ or _why_ it happened; just that it was. Thankfully, he believed her. _That_ she couldn't help finding odd, but he did. He just believed her without question, and it made her chest swell with a strange kind of joy. Just to have someone she could tell this all to—to be able to think on those times and not have to hide it away; it was a wondrous feeling.

"Oh, by the way—was Mario furious with you?" Ezio asked, and the redhead winced slightly.

"A little. He wasn't happy I didn't consult him, but he ultimately left me to 'accept the consequences of my actions'," she hummed, pulling her cloak a bit closer. There had been many more words than that, but mostly the man had been concerned above all. He had told her not to say anything for her—and Ezio's—safety in the first place, but she had explained what she could. It softened him some to know it had been from her guilt, but regardless there was nothing more to be done about it. He urged her not to tell anyone else, and to _that_ she did agree. As she'd told Ezio, she didn't want Claudia to know—not yet—and not even his mother or even Ottavio. It was just too dangerous, but the young man she just had to tell.

"Well, know the only consequence is that I am going to pester you with many questions," said young man grinned, eliciting a laugh from Catherine.

"I think I'm already suffering then," she snickered as she looked to him. "So… what other new questions do you want to ask?"

He leaned up on one arm, rubbing his chin with the other thoughtfully, "Mmm… well, I suppose there has been one thing I was curious about: since you have no suiters in _England_, what of back home? Surely you had some."

"Wait—_what_? You want to know _that_?!" she laughed in disbelief, but his curiosity was sincere as he shrugged and grinned at her. She stared then, giving him a look once more, but he just kept on grinning. She sighed, rolling her eyes, "Fine. Fine, fine, fine… Since you're so curious… No. I didn't have any suitors."

"_Really_?"

She flushed, "Yes, _really_. Geez…"

"No, no, I mean I am surprised! How could you not?"

"Well, I mean… things are different in my time. Guys like short and very thin and small. Or big boobs. At least, that's what I could tell from seeing couples on campus. And, well, I'm kind of the opposite? I mean… I tried finding them-suitors, and there was one guy, but it, uh… well, it didn't work out, and, well, I just… didn't have any other luck—not even my first year at college. And then, I dunno, guys just didn't seem all that interested in me? I admit I'm not always the best at noticing if I'm being flirted with, but when _I _flirted nothing happened, sooo… yeah? No suitors."

He frowned slightly, "Shame on that young man then—he missed out on a fine opportunity."

"Come on, you don't have to pity me or whatever. It was years ago, and I'm over it. Took longer than I wanted, but I got over it. Haven't seen him since High School, anyways, and I figured out he was just a big flirter with girls, so I just… read his intentions wrong. Live and learn, though."

"I don't pity you, Catherine. I pity that young man. I speak sincerely when I say he missed out," Ezio replied, sitting up to look at her firmly. Her eyes widened slightly as her cheeks warmed, heart hammered in her chest some. She looked away, scoffing, and was glad for the darkness—it hid how red her cheeks and ears must have been.

"Jeez, don't say stuff like that. I mean, thanks, and all… but, yeah, I'm over it, and I moved on, and now I'm here where men are apparently more willing to flirt, but they're not my type. That, or they're obnoxious little boys who don't know when to quit."

He paused briefly, then laughed, "Hey! I told you to stop calling me little boy!"

"_Never_," she smirked. It faltered, though, as he suddenly leaned over, placing one arm on her other side and bringing his face close. As usual, he had that signature grin on his face as he purred.

"I shall have to change your mind then."

As usual, her heart was jumping like a jackrabbit, and her mind was of no use. Thankfully, her body had other things in mind, and her hand grabbed at a bit of snow beside her and shoved it into his face as she grinned. He made a garbled sound of surprise while falling back, and she shot up. She snatched up her lantern, quickly blew it out, and raced towards the edge of the _Villa_.

"You won't be changing any minds tonight!" she barked as she got to the edge, turned to give Ezio—whom wiped the snow from his face—a two-finger salute and leaped off. She knew he would follow soon enough, and so hurried inside, all the while laughing, and unable to stop thinking back on his words and how they made her feel.

**-O-**

**December 29, 1477**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Festivities were still going on throughout the city night; lights adorned the streets and people were drinking and eating their supper merrily. Shops were closed, but houses were open, and the training grounds had been changed into a make-shift area for merriment. Really, the big celebration had happened four days ago, but the party continued even now. Mario had been kind enough to put training on hold, for the most part, or at least make it half a day, so everyone was allowed to have some fun. Not too much, of course—soldiers weren't allowed to get so intoxicated they couldn't stand, but enough to laugh and be a little red in the face to match some of their fellow denizens. Mario himself had drunk quite a bit, and even Claudia had taken part and impressed everyone by downing three full mugs before she began to lose her balance, mouthed off everything and everyone she saw, and ended up needing Ezio to carry her back. Beyond her, very few did not part of the merriment—one being Maria, whom Catherine hoped watched from her room—but the redhead had not failed to notice not all were fully enthralled by it.

Although Ezio and Mario had both joined in the celebration, she had caught them talking softly to one another a few times, mulling over their drinks, and it only took a few moments to know what it was. It may have been a year ago, but the weight of it—the loss of their loved ones—was heavy on their shoulders. It settled onto her, as well, although her burden had been lessened some by her confession. Yet, watching them talk made it regain some force, but she was not dragged down by it. Rather, it spurred her to speak to him when he needed it—when the celebrations were not enough.

Thus, Catherine found herself wandering away from the training ground merriment this night. With the moon blocked by clouds, she was glad for the lights as she went further along where there weren't as many. She had seen Ezio walk off, heading towards the wall, and it didn't take long to find him. He was alone, as expected when the rest of the city was partying. He had a drink in his hand, but it look untouched as he rolled the bottom on the stone and looked out on the surrounding land. His gaze was far away, and she recognized it as one she'd had over a week ago when he'd found her out along the wall, too. He looked just as sad, too, and so she put on a soft smile as she approached, her own drink mostly untouched in her grip. She sauntered beside him, setting the mug down, and folding her arms so she could lean on them while they braced against the stone. She didn't say anything right away; rather, she waited to see if he would speak first. He had glanced over at her and even smiled, but the silence went on.

Sighing softly, she finally asked, "You okay?"

He sighed, too—far more deeply than she had. He looked to his mug and downed it all in one go. She took it as a bad sign, and so kept her gaze on him as he stared down at the ground, his face set in a dour frown. He still said nothing, though.

"You're thinking about them, huh?" she inquired quietly, and he looked at her briefly before nodding. Again, he did not reply more than that. She frowned as she leaned closer. "Ezio, you know it wasn't your fault…"

"I know," he murmured back, finally smiling again—just a little. He looked to her. "I merely miss them terribly. Father. Federico. Petruccio. Even Annetta and Leonardo. I miss them, and I will never see them again."

"You know…. And… this will sound so… cheesy, but… they're never gone—not really. Oh, they're gone physically, but… they're still with you," Catherine replied, turning towards him so she could place a hand on his chest—right over his heart. He shifted to make it easier, looking down at the hand and then her. "Those feelings for them—your memories and love for them… they're still there, which means they're with you. As long as you don't forget them, they never really die. All their advice and words and laughs and smiles and moments with you are there. You won't see it now, and maybe not for a while, but when you need them most; when you miss them the worst, you'll think back and find them every time because they're still there."

Ezio grew quiet, watching her as she spoke, and when it was done, he brought his hand up to grasp hers. He did so firmly, and his face fell as if he were holding back his emotions. He squeezed her hand, though, and she could see the slimmest edges of a smile on his lips. Sure enough, he let out a soft laugh and looked up once more, eyes shining some.

"Dammit all… a man should not cry in front of a woman, and yet you somehow always know just the things to say to make me feel so—so…"

She chuckled back, "I just… I know the feeling. Kinda."

"I thought your mother was still alive…?"

"Yeah, my Mom is. I don't have siblings like I said," she replied, and his grip faltered for a moment before he squeezed again. She was the one to pull away, though, as she let out a deep breath of air and rubbed the back of her neck. "My Dad, though—he's gone, remember? It happened years ago. I think about three. I honestly forget how long, which is bad of me. We didn't always get along, and it was tough… we started getting better once I went to college, but then… he got that sickness I told you about. It's something we called cancer—he got it bad and the doctors in my time found it too late. We tried to fix it, but it wasn't working… He got sick real, real bad. He could barely walk or do anything, and his medicine made him throw up so he couldn't eat… and, well, one night he came back from the hospital and he just… he collapsed, and that was it. We tried getting him up but something happened—they said a blood clot got to his lungs, and the shock just… overwhelmed him and he was dead. I tried to revive him, but it was too late and he was gone."

"I'm sorry," Ezio murmured, touching her shoulder gently.

She gave him a small smile, "It's okay—we kind of knew he was going to die. It was better than watching him degrade into nothing… I mean, it was bad at first—just the shock of it, but… I dunno. I call myself a rock, and I had school to keep me busy and I kind of got used to not seeing him because I wasn't home for college, but I just… it didn't… bother me as much as it should have. I _was_ sad. I was. And sometimes I think about it and I miss him… or I think I do, so I _do_ know what you're feeling. Kinda… And, um… I miss them, too, actually. Giovanni. Federico. Petruccio. My time with you guys was some of the best of my life. You were like another family to me. I keep thinking of back then, and how much fun it was… and I wish we were all back there, too. So… I do know."

"I wish that, too… we had such fun," Ezio chuckled softly as he turned so he could lean back against the wall and look out where the festivities were. "Sometimes… sometimes I wonder what it would be like if they were here right now. What would Federico be doing? Would he be an assassin like me? Or would he run the city like Claudia? And what would Petruccio do? Would he run the art store or write stories or..? And Father… he and Mario might work together. They would probably be running missions and stopping Templars. And things would be… I think they would be… much better. Happier. Yet… I wonder if I would have trained. Would have I taken up the sword and the blade? Would I have learned what Father and Uncle have?"

Catherine didn't answer at first, thinking on her words some as she, too, looked out to the city, "I think… sometimes it's better not to think about those things—it only makes it hurt. But… if you do think about it… I think you would have thrived just the same. Your dad would have taught you everything—you and Federico would both be great Assassins. And Petruccio would probably help Claudia or do art or writing like you said."

"Yeah… that sounds about right," the young man smiled, gaze falling. He laughed after a few moments. "Ah, just look at me. Acting all depressed when the rest of the city is so joyful. I should be enjoying it. We _both_ should."

"It's okay to be sad, Ezio. I told you that, remember? But… you shouldn't forget you do have people who care about you here—over at the ring. All the men consider you a brother or friend, and Mario _is_ your uncle. Claudia cares, but she's kind of hung-over right now. I know Ghita cares, although she won't say it. The city people care—they appreciate all your work, and all those ladies certainly love you," she snickered, and his lip curved upwards sincerely.

"And you?"

She paused, flushing, "Well, of course I care. I came over here to set your head straight, didn't I?"

He grinned before he suddenly leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek, "I am honored, then. And I think I'll return to the party. I cannot say I'll be as cheerful as I can be, but… I'll do what I can to think of what you've said. I don't suppose you will join me?"

"I… suppose I can," she mused, but then jabbed a finger at him. "But no more of the kisses on the cheek. People will start to think we like each other."

"Shall I kiss you on the lips then?" he smirked, leaning closer. She promptly pushed his face away before she sauntered off backwards.

"You shall do nothing of the sort that's what!" she huffed and promptly spun around. Ezio caught up soon enough, laughing as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She allowed it, though kept a huffy look upon her face all the way back.

It was all worth it, though; while it didn't completely reach his eyes, the smile on the young man's face was much warmer than it had been. She hoped it could only remain strong, and that he could see the strength he had here in the city in the throng of happy, laughing faces. If he was blind, though, she would help him see.

**-O-**

**January 24, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

_'Okay, come on. Just knock. You can do this. Just knock on the door. It's not hard. Just do it. Okay? Okay. Yeah. Let's do this. Knock. Just knock. Just do it. Go. Knock. Do it. Come on. Just do it. You can do it. Come on. Come on!'_

And so it went on inside the head of Catherine Wolfe as she stood outside Maria Auditore's room, her hand raised to rap on the door to be allowed entry. Yet, it hadn't move for the full minute she'd been there, and her limb was beginning to ache. She had told herself to go talk to the woman being that it had been a full year since they'd come here, and she hadn't talked to her properly _once_ because of her damned guilt and insecurity. Yet, she figured it was the new year and since all the festivities were over and everyone was getting back to work, it was the perfect time, right? Right.

Yet here she was, being a coward.

The redhead sighed as she lowered her arm, the ache becoming unbearable. It flopped down by her side, and she turned away from the door. She got to the corner before she let a groan slip out and shoved her face into her hands. What the hell was _wrong_ with her? She'd been able to tell Ezio what was going on when she felt this way, but now she couldn't even go to his mom just to _talk_ to her? Then again, what the hell would she even talk about? She honestly did know. She had just hoped something good might happen, but really, what had she been thinking? What had she hoped might happen? That the woman would suddenly go back to normal? She felt so foolish now.

"No luck, I take it?" a voice mused humorously, and she gave a pitiful look to Ezio as he emerged from the hallway to her right. He chuckled as he came over and grasped her shoulder sympathetically. "It is alright… Mother has not been better for any of us. I doubt you'll get anything from her, either."

"I know, I know, but… I just… I thought maybe I should say _something_. I thought maybe it would help… or maybe it was just for me, I don't know," she grumbled, dragging her hands along her face glumly.

"Well, don't think too much on it. Come on; let's go sit or something… you know, it feels weird not training or going on missions right now, but with the snow, it's not so easy to work or move about."

"That's for sure. I almost feel like I'm getting rusty," the redhead sighed with a small smile as she began to walk with him to the stairs. "But yeah, let's head out to the courtyard or whatever. Lord knows I don't need this stress when my birthday comes."

He paused at the top of the stairs, but then trotted down after her, "Your birthday is near? Why did you not say so? We will celebrate! When it is it?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down now. I don't need a celebration," she chuckled, lifting her arms for peace, but Ezio would have none of it as they reached the bottom and he put his hands on his hips.

"Catherine, you will tell me when your birthday is or I'll tell Claudia your birthday is coming and she _will_ glean it from you."

She groaned, "Oh my Gooooood don't tell her! She will be impossible! She'll keep bothering me until I tell her so she can throw me a stupid party!"

"That's the point. Now fess up so _I_ can plan it and spare you Claudia's frivolities," the young man smirked. Catherine glared slightly and even pouted, but she knew he would make good on his threat, and she did _not_ want to deal with his sister's pestering. Although she had come to love the young woman, she could be the foulest creature on Earth when she was determined to get something.

"Uuuuuuugh fiiiiine. It's the twenty-eighth. My birthday is in four days, and do _not_ throw me a party! I just like to keep it simple! Just a nice dinner and relaxing around, okay?" she huffed some more, folding her arms over her chest.

Ezio grinned like a little kid, "Of course! Now, come on—we can talk in the courtyard of other things."

"Oh? Like what?" she snorted, but followed him anyways.

"Well, we actually haven't spoken much of your former life for a while—too busy training and then our two weeks in the trade town keeping us busy because of the soldiers."

"Ah, yeah. They're getting troublesome again," she grumbled, thinking back on their latest trip out of the city. The soldiers in red had appeared in greater numbers this time, but with the help of the other men, they were able to whittle down their numbers and drive them back. However, there were reports of other larger groups in other towns, too. It didn't bode well, but they had been recalled for training, so there wasn't much the two of them could do. Frankly, she just wished they could figure out what was going on.

"So, I take it I can ask more questions?" the young man grinned impishly, to which the redhead paused for a moment or two before shrugging. His grin widened a bit more. "Then I'd like to know of some of your friends—you've yet to mention them. I had some of the other Noble men, although I always preferred my family's company above all."

She scrunched her nose, "You want to know about my _friends_? Well, okay, um… well… I kind of went through a few as I grew up. I was never good at _keeping_ friends—we always kind of out-grew each other or became distanced because we liked different things or they moved. I've also always had a few close friends—I was never for the big groups. Anyways, I've gone through a range of friends, but my latest one… her name was Emma. She was about my size and build, but a bit thicker from weight lifting and her giant boobs. She was sooo stubborn and I wanted to clobber her a lot, but we just… fit. We worked well together, and we didn't live far apart so it was pretty great for a long while."

She paused as they got out into the cool air. She tugged her cloak close as she sat down on the bench, and scooted closer to Ezio when he sat down as well. He leaned back into her, helping to share the warmth. Briefly, Catherine wondered if this would be considered improper by his society's standards, but then shoved it away. They were beyond that, and they were friends. There was, perhaps, another reason, but she refused to even consider it. In fact, she shook it from her head.

"You said it was great for a long while?" he asked, and she looked over at him before smiling a bit sadly.

"Yeah, well… she, uh… moved. She wanted to be a police officer around where we lived, but she ended up moving in the end. She still became an officer, and we kept in contact, although it got less and less as the years went on. She was actually older than me… I forgot by how much, but we were still pretty good friends. I miss her every so often," she chuckled, thinking back on the moments. They had so much fun in the past, but it had been so long ago she didn't think about it as much as she should have, and then with things so crazy here in the past it had almost been not at all. Of course, her mind had been occupied by so much more; it was only reasonable. However, as she tried to conjure the memories, she noticed a certain lack of detail. It had been years, but it was a bit frustrating to find her friend's features felt _smudged_; like a blur, and some things she wasn't sure of.

It didn't sit well with her, but what could she do? It was so long ago. She didn't even remember when the last time they'd me had been. It felt so long ago now.

"So she became a guard?" he asked, breaking her stupor and she nodded. "Then she must have been like you, and a good person if you were friends with her."

"She was. Really stubborn, though. Almost more than you. She also had a bad habit of getting into trouble. I swear I had to save her ass so much," she laughed, shaking her head.

He smirked, "Sounds like me a little."

"No, she was worse," she snickered, and then sighed. "Wish I could have kept her around, but stuff always gets in the way. Seems to happen with all my friends."

"…You have the city, you know. You always say I do, but so, too, do you," Ezio smiled, nudging her slightly. "And they certainly won't leave you."

"Yeah, I guess they won't," she chuckled, though paused for a moment before looking up at him. "And you?"

"I will always have your back," he replied softly, reaching over to grasp her hand. She looked down at it, her heart fluttering and hoping for so many things. She knew it was thinking too much, but she couldn't help it. She didn't dare ask him, though—not yet, but she hoped.

Maybe—just maybe—he would stay after all.

**-O-**

**February 5, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine stared at the parchment on her desk. It had the starting of a face, one that should have been easy for her to recall and draw. She had already done it many times before, and in fact she only had to lift her head up slightly and she could _see_ the others works. Yet, she'd been staring at the stupid paper for what felt hours now and _nothing_ was happening. She would bring her pen or charcoal to the surface, but she would only get one scratch in before she had to stop, try and think, and get absolutely nowhere. It was frustrating, and also a bit alarming, though she didn't allow herself to panic. There had to be a reasonable explanation for as to why it was happening.

After all, who forgot what their mother looked like?

It just _didn't_ happen—not all of a sudden, and yet, she couldn't grab the details. She'd always had an eye for them, and now she couldn't recall a single, proper one. Anything she attempted just felt _wrong_ and she'd thrown away countless pieces of parchment already. Why couldn't she get it right? She'd had no trouble months ago and it had only been maybe a year and a half since she'd last seen her mom so why? Why was it so hard? Even her father was difficult to imagine, and while that was more reasonable since he had been gone for years, it was infuriating. She should have remembered! It should have been so easy to do, and yet—yet—!

"Dammit all," she groaned and tossed her pen aside. She let her head slump on her table, arms splaying out across her works. When not struggling over drawing her mother or father, she'd done more doodles of the Auditore family or people in town. However, she'd had trouble recalling them, too, and that hurt just as bad. She had old drawings to work off of, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't capture them right. Their faces were right there, but when she reached for them; tried to grasp them, they faded away. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

Groaning some more, Catherine sat back up and ran her hands through her hair and then shoved her face into them. She pulled her knees up so they squished to her chest, and she stared to wish training hadn't been cancelled half-way through today. Snow had started to fall quickly, though, and the wind had an icy, painful bite. Mario didn't intend to send them on a mission for at least a few more weeks, too, and the roads weren't good for travelling during snowfall, so she was stuck in the _Villa_.

Really, she shouldn't have been so depressed. It _had_ been her birthday about a week ago, and it had been one of the happiest days of her life. At least, here in the Renaissance, anyways. Ezio had thankfully kept his word and didn't make it a grand occasion, but there had been a decent feast with Ottavio, the Doctor, and a few other men coming to enjoy it and drink with them and celebrate. It had been more fun than she had though, even when Ezio tried to be cheeky and give her a kiss as a present. He had given her something proper in the end—a new, custom-made belt since her old one had gotten rather scuffed over the year—but she couldn't help getting excited even just thinking about it.

It was stupid.

She should have known better, but lately, any time she was around him her heart fluttered and moved faster. It wasn't just because she was happy to be around him, either, and she found herself flushing more and more in his presence, which was aggravating in way too many ways. For one, it made it easier for him to get to her and tease her, which made it harder for her to get back at him. The other involved the realization that, despite all her efforts, she _liked_ him. More than like him. Had a crush on him. Maybe. Probably. Most likely.

She liked Ezio.

A lot.

More than she should have.

She'd felt the feeling before, and she had such _hope_. It was almost impossible not to. He was always so kind to her and supported her and flirted with her. How was she supposed to _not_ feel anything for him? She'd have to be a cold, heartless bitch, but she wasn't. She was a damned, pitiful fool who couldn't convince herself it was a bad idea to follow her heart. Yes, he was kind, but how could he feel the same? Sometimes she thought he acted like it, but she'd thought that before, and it had ended badly—for her. She couldn't do it again. She couldn't go through it again. She didn't _want_ to go through with it again.

Yet, the heart wanted what it did, and she could only work impossibly hard to keep it from making her act against her logic.

She just hoped Ezio _never_ noticed and that he could just find someone else—some other Cristina—so she could stop pining for him. Yet, at the same time she dreaded the thought.

_'Jesus Christ, why do things have to be complicated?' _she sighed miserably. First the problem with her memory, and now her feelings? Things had gotten better with her fighting skills and confidence, but that had only left room for these two new problems to protrude their heads into her life.

Her silent mourning was interrupted with a rap came on her door, and after giving permission, the wood swung towards her. To Catherine's surprise, Claudia appeared. She was in her usual fancy dress, and although her hair tied back, it was not in her fancy wiring. She had abandoned her former attire style sometime after coming here, and now her hair was kept up in a tighter bun. It gave her a slight touch of maturity, although she was still just a teenager, but that was to be expected since she was responsible for the city now. She had done a grand job, and most all the city respected her for it. They certainly thanked her, and had kind words. Even the men were respectful and showed it to her in how they spoke more politely than they would with most others. She was really coming in to her own here and Catherine was happy for her.

"Well, you look to be in quite the sorry state," Claudia mused wryly, hand on her hips.

The redhead shrugged, "Eh. One of those days."

"Oh? Having one of those—oh what did you call them?" she continued, waltzing over and gesturing to her drawings. She paused as she thought, and then gestured again. "Ah, yes—'art block'! You are having one of those?"

"You could say that. I just… I dunno, I can't draw right now," Catherine huffed, rubbing the back of her head glumly. "Just… having trouble getting the image in my head."

Claudia hummed softly, looking at them, and motioned to one, "This one… it looks like… your mother? I think?"

"Um… yeah. I was... trying, anyways. Can't get it right… anymore."

"How do you mean?"

"Ugh, well… I can't… I try to think of her face, and I just… _can't_. It's frustrating. It's like…."

"—like you are forgetting them?" Claudia replied softly, and the redhead looked up sharply at her. The young woman smiled sadly and let out a sigh. "I have felt the same about my brothers and father and my friends—my home. It has become harder to remember. In fact, I use your drawings to fill in the gaps."

"I'm sorry," the redhead murmured, gaze falling.

"It is not your fault—it is simply the way of things, I think. Uncle told me so, anyways. He said that, although we hold on to the core of it, we will lose the outer edges—it happens to everyone," Claudia replied, turning towards the drawings and traced her hand over the top of them gently. Her eyes roved along with them, taking in each and every mark. Her eyes fell to the one of Catherine's mother that was more detailed than most. She took it gingerly in her hands, and then found one of her father before handing them to the redhead. "But… he said there are things you can do so you never forget. I use your drawings for part of it, but… I have also begun to write."

"Write?" Catherine inquired, brow raised as she took the drawings.

The young Auditore nodded, "I write letters, as if they are just in a faraway place. I do not do it all the time; just when I feel I need to. I tell them about all that has happened and how I am feeling or tell them how the others are doing. I find that it helps—if only a little. It still hurts some, but I believe, in a way, they can read them. I think… I think if, perhaps, you should write to your parents… it may help you, too."

Catherine was quiet for a long while as she stared at the drawings. She moved her fingers along the lines, and felt the images returning in her mind. It wasn't complete—her drawings had never been fully accurate, but it was better. Her frustration was lessened, but with it came regret and guilt. She was forgetting her mother. She was forgetting her father. She was forgetting her home. She may have lost her chance to return, but to forget it? That was terrible. She couldn't just let it slip away.

"I… I think I'll do that. I don't know what I'll write, but… I guess I just write?" she smiled up at the young woman, whom smiled and nodded back.

"Yes. You just take the pen and you begin to write. You write anything that comes to mind. You should try it tonight. See if it helps."

"I will. Thank-you, Claudia," Catherine replied, reaching over to squeeze the young woman's hand. The young Auditore returned it, and let it linger before a sudden though came to her. "Oh, jeez… I totally forgot to ask why you came here. Sorry!"

The young woman laughed, "I almost forgot, too, but it is no matter. Rather, would you join me for a little walk? I do believe you and I both could use some sweet rolls."

"Isn't it snowing?" the redhead mused.

"It is not so bad now. We will go and come back and enjoy them in the study. Come. You need to get out of this room, anyways, and it is high time we shared sweet rolls again."

"You know what? You're right. Let's do it. Lemme just grab my cloak and we can go," Catherine chuckled, standing up, and grabbing her garment from her bed. They departed then, and despite the chill, the snow had lessened, and they were able to obtain their sweet treat. From here, they enjoyed time they had not had much of together, and she decided she needed to spend more time with Claudia. She would not have thought she would ever feel that way for the young woman, but she was glad to spend time with her. She was especially glad for it when they finally parted ways and she was alone in her room.

Once again, the memory of her parents was faded, but she kept her frustration at bay. Rather, she pulled a new parchment out, but instead of putting her message into picture, she used words. She began to write, and she hoped that would be enough to keep the memory strong.

**-O-**

**February 24, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

The inn was relatively quiet in the little town she and Ezio had been assigned to for duty. It seemed to be too small for any of the soldiers in red to come by, so there hadn't been much to do, and it was just the two of them for the next few days before they were switched out with another duo of men. They would venture to another town for yet another week before returning to _Monteriggioni_. For now, they spent most their time in the inn either eating, making scouting routes, sleeping, or seeing to their chores. Catherine's roll was tending to the horses while Ezio was to get their supper today, so she was still outside as she snowfall ended. It was starting to get warmer, thankfully, and she didn't really need a cloak anymore, but she used it to shield herself from the last few flakes falling. The townsfolk said it was probably the end of the snows for the year, which she was grateful for. While she enjoyed the white flakes, it was a pain to work with when heat only came from fires and clothes unlike in her time.

The redheaded young woman nodded to the people standing outside the inn—some farmers enjoying their drink outside in the cool air—and stepped inside. It was distinctly warmer thanks to the large hearth and she was able to pull off her cloak and set it on the table while she sat across from Ezio. He had procured them food as he'd been tasked, so she happily slurped down some of her warm soup before she took note of him. He was in his father's gear as he usually was when on missions, but unlike usual, he didn't have some cheeky remark ready. In fact, his focus was elsewhere—on papers to his right. She raised a brow, but couldn't quite make them out with his arm obscuring her view. She took a few more sips of her soup and bites of her bread before she finally decided he'd been quiet enough to warrant her inquest.

"So… what's more interesting than your food?" she mused, and he perked up, as if surprised she were there. He let out a sigh as he lifted his arm, motioning to the paper. She looked, and found a map. She frowned and moved the others, noting a few more maps that looked to be more regional or even a nautical one.

"Just going over potential destinations," he mumbled almost tiredly, but it still struck a knife in her gut.

"…Destinations? You… you're going t to leave?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. He looked up at her, and she saw the flicker of guilt there. He rubbed the back of his neck as he groaned slightly and leaned back.

"Maybe. I… haven't decided yet. I still need to think what's best for my family…"

"You know you can stay—I told you you'd be safe here."

"I know, I know… but… the attacks have gotten worse lately. The towns are constantly complaining—what if there is an attack on the city? What if these are Templars? I _have_ to consider that, and what's best for my family _and_ for the city. If they're trying to find me… then it would be better if I left."

"But what if they're _not_ looking for you—what if they're just people trying to take our land?" she pressed, her gut wrenching tighter and tighter.

"Then—I… I suppose we could stay, but no one knows! No one knows why they are here! If we could find out _why_ then I could finally decide, but if we never do… I… ugh, Catherine, please don't press this. I still need to think and consider all my options. Please just let me decide this on my own, alright?" Ezio rasped, running a hand through his hair.

Suddenly, he looked haggard; old and weary. There was so much weight on him still, and she hadn't noticed; she'd been too busy wanting him to stay. Yet, she still yearned for him to remain here, but if he said was true, then he was right. It would be safer if he left, wouldn't it? She didn't want to believe so, but she knew, deep down, he was, and that hurt. It hurt more than a lot of things had, and she wanted to tell him otherwise. She wanted to beg him to think about staying; to stop thinking about leaving. She wanted to tell him _she _wanted him to stay and be with her. She wanted to tell him it was better here.

In the end, though, she looked down at her soup and smiled sadly.

"Okay."

**-O-**

**March 17, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine growled as she twisted, dodging a blade just barely. She quickly reacted, slamming her elbow into the man's face. He snarled in pain as blood burst, but she gave him no reprieve as she unsheathed her hidden blade and shoved it into his throat. He made a gurgle as blood poured into his mouth, and then he dropped. She turned to face the others, but there were no more beyond Ezio's opponent. He was handling him fine, so she spun around to be sure. The rest were dead as far as she could see—five in total. One brute, three normal soldiers, and a scout. It hadn't been too hard to take them on together, and even as she checked them, Ezio was ending his battle.

Briefly, she considered the fact these men all had families—loved ones they cared for, and she had torn them from those people. Some might have relied on them for money or their livelihood, and she had ruined. Yet, she was quickly reminded of Mario's words—of how these men had made a choice to fight, and so, too, had they. And like these men they had people to protect and who relied on them. If they fell, those people, too, would fall, and so such regrets and doubts had to be pushed aside and reassured by the fact there was no other choice. It was live or die in their war—in all wars—and this was the fate of its soldiers. There was no use lamenting over it.

Still, sometimes the regret would linger longer than she lied. In this moment, though, there was still a fight to focus on. Ezio was still engaged, and so she put their deaths from her. She looked just as he slammed his fist into the man's face, sending him to the ground.

"Keep him alive!" she shouted as she checked the last man besides her partner's, but they were dead. All but the one Ezio had punched. "We need to get answers!"

"Already on it!" he barked back as he kicked the man's sword away and freed him of his other weapons. He then grabbed him by his collar and shoved him into the nearby tree. The man gasped as he regained consciousness, and quivered at the sight of the Auditore. Catherine joined him a moment later and freed her hidden blade to put it to his throat.

"I suggest you answer my friend's questions, or you end up like the rest—just more slowly," she growled, pushing the blade close enough to draw a tiny drop of blood. The man made a growl, but stifled it when Ezio pushed him further up the tree. He glared, but only got it in return.

"Who do you take your orders from!?" the young man snarled, but the soldier spat a glob of blood into Ezio's face. The Auditore scowled briefly, releasing one hand to wipe the glob from his face, and then punched the man hard again. The soldier groaned. "I will punch lower next time. And after that I will allow my friend to begin cutting. Now answer the question!"

"I would rather die than answer to an Auditore dog!"

Both Catherine and Ezio paused, glancing at one another. "Auditore dog"? They knew about Ezio—or was it Mario? They had so many more questions now, but before they could even ask, the man suddenly laughed. They looked back to him, his teeth bright red as he grinned at them.

"You don't even know do you? You will soon! Soon!" he cackled at them, and ignored Ezio's shouts to answer. He merely laughed and laughed until he could do so no more and then looked the young man straight in the eye. "You will get what is coming to you. Your city will fall."

"What do you mean—who is sending you!?" Catherine snarled, pressing the blade closer.

"You will not know until it is too late, bitch," he chortled, but before she could ask more or even react he suddenly lunged forward. His neck stuck into her blade, and more blood pooled into his mouth and to the ground as the life left him. Catherine pulled her blade free, but it was far too late. He was dead as soon as it had hit his jugular, and Ezio tossed him aside with a curse.

"Dammit! We could have had found it out! We could have! He knew us! He knew who I was! He knew about the Auditores! He _knew_!" Ezio howled with rage, storming back and forth.

Catherine silently cursed with him, "You don't know that—he could have meant Mario. Mario is an Auditore, too, and the soldiers would know Mario has an army."

"Even so—what did he mean by that? What is coming!? Who is sending them!? Is my family in danger? I _need_ to know, but they won't fucking talk!" he snarled, suddenly slamming his fist in to the tree. "This is only one of _many_ groups that have appeared and they are getting bolder and smarter and more dangerous! Something has to be done, but we can't find the damn source!"

"_Ezio_!" she shouted to catch his attention, and he finally looked at her, eyes in a frenzy. "Ezio, calm down! You won't figure anything out if you're going crazy like this. I know you're worried. I know you want your family to be safe, and I know none of the soldiers are talking, but that doesn't mean we can't figure it out! It'll just take some more time! So—so calm down and think, okay? _Okay_?"

She came towards him then, holding her hands out imploringly. He looked ready to blow up still, and she hated seeing him so stressed. She knew it was because he was doing all he could to do the best for his family, and he was forcing himself to make a decision. He had to with the pressure of the attacks becoming more frequent. He was worried for his family, but with no solution in sight, it just seemed impossible. She knew how he felt. Her whole city was in trouble, but this wasn't helping. She just hoped he would see that, at the very least.

By some miracle, he sighed, and it was as if he let out all the stress in that moment and moved over to a rock where he sat down. He pressed his head into his hands and just sat there silently, his eyes closed tight. Catherine sighed as well, and, after a moment, followed him over and sat down beside him.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," he murmured softly. "I'm just… I'm worried. Before it wasn't so bad—I thought… I thought it would be alright, but now… the men are so much closer and some of _our_ men have already died… Mario is getting worse—you've seen him."

"I know… but… we can't let it get to us… otherwise, they win. We just… we have to keep working at it. Eventually we'll find someone who breaks, and then it'll be better. It'll be safe here. You'll see," she smiled, hoping it would help him, but by the looks of it, she'd done almost nothing at all.

"Maybe…"

She sighed again, "Well, it'll stay 'maybe' if we just sit here, so come on… let's head back and send a pigeon to _Monteriggioni_."

"…Alright."

With that, he stood, and she followed him to where they'd left their horses to ambush the soldiers. They would have to leave the bodies in the bare ground—there wasn't much they could do. The townsfolk would do what they needed or leave them to the wolves. For now, their focus was on reporting to the city. At least, that was one concern for Catherine. The other was the sinking feeling in her stomach—the one that was tied to the realization that Ezio had _more _reason to leave now. It wasn't fair, but she feared there was nothing she could do to convince him. She had to find a way, though. Somehow.

**-O-**

**April 3, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

She needed to talk to him, that Catherine was sure of.

Things hadn't gotten much better since the botched interrogation. Ezio had been brooding, fraught with worry and unease. He had been torn in his decision, and she hated seeing him this way—it was almost as bad as watching him mourn for his family. So she thought she would help him decide. Oh, it was selfish. She knew it was. She was going to try and convince him to stay despite the danger or the fact the soldiers could potentially be after him and his family, which ultimately put everyone in danger if he stayed. She wanted him to be here, though. She didn't want to lose him, and the city loved him already. They wanted him around. _She_ wanted him around. Was that so bad?

She wasn't sure anymore, but she had to try. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to be alone. Sure, she would have the men and Mario and the others, but it wasn't the same. So she would be selfish. Besides, staying here had been good for him. He had been happy until recently, and he was so much stronger. Claudia was happier, too, and Maria had a place she could get better. It was a slow process with her, but she _was_ better than when she first came. Wasn't that enough for him? Wasn't this the right place to be?

She hoped that would be enough to convince him.

Catherine sucked in a deep breath of air as she made her way to Mario's study. Claudia said her brother was in there going over papers and documents, which she had no doubt had to do with traveling to a safer place. The notion made her uneasy and her resolve falter, but still she walked on as she gathered what courage she could. She knew this was a sore subject for him at the moment, but she couldn't back off. Not now.

She paused at the entryway and saw him easily enough, looming over the papers, surrounded by books. She breathed in deeply again before knocking on the frame. He perked up, and, to her surprise, smiled. Her heart fluttered with hope and she came a bit closer as he leaned back.

"Good evening. I wasn't expecting company, but I am glad for it, I think," he chuckled as she ventured closer.

"Well, it's good to see you've cheered up some. I was worried about you," she replied, coming over and leaned against the desk.

He grinned sheepishly, "It's been… stressful lately, but… well, the training was a good stress relief and let me think clearly."

"Yeah, I _know_. Those last few rounds _hurt_," she snorted, to which he gave her an apologetic smile. She laughed a moment later, "Well, as long as it helped. So. Things all clear then? About what?"

"Well, I think… I have come to a decision."

She perked up, heart racing a bit faster, "Oh? I guess I'll wait to talk to you about what I was gunna say then."

"Ah, forgive me; I did the work for you," he snickered as he pushed some of the paper aside, revealing a map with marks on it, and a record of something—ships, she thought she read.

"So, um," she began, treading carefully. She was almost too afraid to ask. "What… did you decide?"

Ezio paused, letting out a long, slow breath of air before pushing the document together nice and neat. He sat up then, looking her right in the eye. She still held on to hope, but it was faltering; her fear was growing; and her heart was racing so fast she thought it was going to burst out of her chest.

"We're going to leave."

There it was.

Her heart fell into her gut, and her gut fell even further than that. She did what she could to hide the hurt from her face, and hoped she did so enough. She didn't want him to see how devastating that was; how it caused her such pain. He was leaving—he was going to leave her, just like the others. He had said he wouldn't, but he was, and she was going to be alone again. She thought she had found people she cared for that would stay, but she was wrong. She was always wrong.

"Uh… w-when?" she stuttered briefly as she steadied herself.

"Well… Mario said my training is almost complete. I would rather go when it is done, so I suppose then… but if it takes too long, we will leave sooner—certainly before the end of the month. With the attacks being as dangerous as they are and so close and frequent, it's not safe to keep Claudia and Mother here."

"Did you tell them?"

He shook his head, "Not yet. But I will soon. They will need time to prepare and Claudia will need to find a replacement for the finances."

"Yeah, you, ah… should tell them pretty soon then," she murmured, eyes focusing on the ground. She didn't want him to see how she was feeling.

"I will… and Catherine," he began, but she wouldn't look at him. "I'm sorry—I wanted to say something sooner, but I wasn't sure… but… you know… you… you could come with us."

She turned towards him at last, confusion evident in her features, "What?"

"Come with us," he repeated, standing up and taking her hand. "You don't have to stay here, either. Your home is where you make it, and we would love to have you. Claudia is fond of you and… I…I would miss you terribly. Mario would understand, I'm sure."

Catherine stared at him long and hard, her mind a muddled mess. What the hell was she supposed to do here? She couldn't just leave with him—could she? Couldn't she, though? All she had to do was agree and leave, but it wasn't that simple, was it? No, it never was. How could she leave this place? She had made friends here. She cared about people here. Mario was like a father or an uncle to her. He had taught her so much and helped her become so strong, and he had offered this place as her home. She had been so happy here—why couldn't Ezio be? Why couldn't he be happy here? Why couldn't he stay, too?

"I… I'm not… I don't… I don't know—I can't… I can't decide that right now," she replied at last, unable to make herself say yes. It was just as hard as pulling her hand from his and even harder than having to suffer the hurt that crossed his features.

He smiled sadly, "I understand."

"Just... just give me some time to think about it," she replied back, smiling as well, but she knew it didn't reach her eyes. She knew he could see it, too; could tell it was all fake smiles now. They were just fooling themselves. Nothing was okay right now. Nothing could be. Not right now.

"Of course… and um… oh—wasn't… didn't you have something to tell me?" he asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

She almost laughed. She almost bust into a painful laughter that might have ended in tears. Instead, she kept her lips sealed and her eyes dry, and turned his gaze from his as she slipped from the desk.

"It's nothing—never mind," she managed to chuckle, and that was all she could muster.

* * *

_I don't want to wake up lonely  
I don't want to just be fine  
I don't want to keep on hoping  
Forget what I have in mind  
Forget what I have in mind_

* * *

**27 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's the end of this montage! It should be the last one for a while, so hope you enjoyed it ;)_

_Anyways, so a LOT has happened-mostly, Ezio's growing frustration and desire to leave because of the growing danger. After all, just who is sending the men? How do they know just where to hit when before they didn't? Of course there are answers, and they will be coming in a few chapters. For now... in regard to Catherine, she's suffering her own troubles with the pain of forgetting those you care about. Not really forgetting them, but you don't remember them as clearly, even if you don't mean to. Then we also learn some more about her past and an old BFF named Emma... basically a special cameo for another friend of mine who will hopefully be posting soon! Also, more family information, and so forth... And then oh dear-feelings! Yep, she's accepting that she has a crush on Ezio, though is definitely not going to act on those feelings any time soon TEE HEE ;) Besides, now there's the drama of Ezio leaving... will Catherine stay-or will she go with Ezio? The answers come next chapter! :'D_

_So stick around and enjoy the pre-Vieri fight chapter! xD_


	29. Ends of the Earth

**TMWolf: **_Update time, guys! And it's early (by a few hours lol)! I have a job now, so I thought I'd update early since I work early tomorrow. Also, since I dooo have a job...updates may get delayed, but I don't know for sure, so for now expect that weekly updates will continue! Right. So. Here's the big answer chapter! Time to see what Catherine will decide: to go with Ezio, or not? Ya'll just have to wait and see to find out! ;) _

_For now... as usual, how I write the canon characters is based on my interpretation of the canon material and so forth!_

_Now for some guest reviews:_

_**Britanika**: hee hee yay! So glad you do! xD_

_**Laurel**: Well, I think you'll find some answers this chapter, the next one, and the one after. and Claudia and Catzio are fun to do :) They'll keep getting to grow as it goes on, too._

_**xoxo**: Not yet, not yet! xD It gunna take them a long, long time ;)_

_As for the rest of you guys: thank-you so much for all your input and comments and everything-I love reading them and answering questions! Really, you guys are awesome! :) As always, feel free to keep asking them or making pointers!_

_Now, this chapter is from Lords of Huron - Ends of the Earth. I found it was actually kind of fitting, ha ha xD_

_Anyways, on to the show!_

* * *

**28 **– _Ends of the Earth_

* * *

_To the ends of the earth would you follow me?  
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see  
To the ends of the earth would you follow me?  
Well if you want, I will say my goodbyes to me_

* * *

**April 14 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine sighed as she adjusted her hidden blade while leaning against the wall around the training area. Ezio, standing next to her, glanced down, but then back to the men working their moves. It was a normal training day for them, and they'd already finished their Assassin training, so now it was time to wait for sparring. They only ever trained with each other, and Mario generally had them go last, so that had a bit of a wait still. Thankfully, they had plenty of sunlight with it not even halfway through the day. Their Commander had said the training session would be shorter today, anyways—something about business to attend to tonight, though he didn't say what. However, everyone had noticed he seemed uneasy; more on edge. It was disheartening, but there was nothing that could be done.

"Anxious?" Ezio asked her suddenly and she paused in her fidgeting. She glanced up, brow raised, and he chuckled. "You adjust your bracer when you're anxious. Or bored."

"Oh… I think just bored," she rumbled in reply and wrapped her arms around her front to keep them from picking about.

"Well, not much longer now and we can show these men how it's done," he smirked playfully, and though she returned his jubilance with a grin, it wasn't nearly as genuine or bright as she wanted it. Unfortunately, things between them hadn't been as good as they should have been for almost two weeks now—ever since he said he was leaving. He'd asked her to come with them, and he had done so a few more times, to which she gave the same answer: she didn't know.

And it was true. She honestly didn't know what she wanted. Or rather, she didn't know which to _choose_. She knew a part of her wanted to go with Ezio and stay with him—that part of her that had strong feelings beginning to grow demanded she remain by his side—but the other told her she needed to stay. _Monteriggioni_ was her home, and with Ezio they would mostly likely always be on the run, and then—and perhaps it was foolish—but sometimes she thought the Clock told her to stay; that she was _meant_ to be here. Oh, it was stupid. There was no way it was working when it hadn't in so long, but her gut just told her she had to stay. So what did she follow? Her gut or her heart? The former was generally right, and the latter wrong, but could it be the opposite this time?

Catherine hated when things that should have been easy to decide were so complicated. Worse still, _she_ was making it complicated. All she had to do was say yes or no, but anytime he asked her mind went to the pits, and her tongue was tied. He would accept her indecision, though, and leave her be, but she swore she saw his pain—perhaps because it was close to a rejection. The thought tugged at her heart and made her want to say yes, but her loyalty kept herself rooted to this place and she ended up not moving at all.

So here they were.

At an impasse, and being awkward.

Fun times.

"Hey, Catherine… have you noticed how there seem to be fewer men today?" Ezio inquired, once again pulling the redhead from her stupor. She frowned, glancing around, and realized he was right. There _were_ a distinct fewer number of men around than usual, which was odd. Sort of. She supposed it could be because of the attacks on the city, or at least the land around it. There hadn't been any direct strikes on the city, but the complaints from around had increased. They'd certainly faced increased amount of enemy units, and their attacks had been bolder and bolder. What was more discerning was that they always seemed to know the best places to come in—it was far more difficult to find them. It was uncanny, and unsettling. They'd managed so far, but now it seemed there were more of them, and they were better trained. Something was going on, and now that so few men were kept in the city, it was probably worse than they thought.

"Yeah, I have… Mario must be sending a lot out to cover all our territories," she replied, biting her lip uneasily. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I… I think… I think I will need to take my family soon," the young man sighed, and Catherine looked at him sharply. He frowned, his guilt obvious, but he did not back down. "I can't let my mother and sister be in danger—especially not when it is so obvious. We can't stay."

"…You know when you'll leave?"

He hesitated before nodding, "Yes… you… you will need to give me your answer within the next few days, Catherine."

"…Have you told Mario?" she asked instead, not bothering to hide the fact she was definitely avoiding the question. Ezio sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He looked at to where his Uncle was, and then down at his feet which shifted uneasily.

"Not yet… Soon."

"Ezio, you need to tell him—you owe him that, at the very least!" she urged, and he groaned while he ran his hands along his face.

"I _know_… I just… need the right moment. I _will_ tell him, though. I promise. _You_ must give me your answer soon, though."

She was the one to sigh this time, "I will. I promise, too. I… I'll need to talk to Mario first myself. But you need to before I do."

"I will! I will! I just… haven't found the right moment. He's been so busy."

"That's for sure… well, just… try and tell him _today_. If you're leaving soon… you won't have much time."

"Neither will you—if you choose to come. You know we all want you to… even if I haven't told Claudia yet," he replied sheepishly, and Catherine had to blink, pausing, and groaned.

"Jesus Christ, Ezio—you haven't even told the people you'll be taking with you!? What if Claudia doesn't want to leave?!" she hissed, doing what she could to keep her voice low, but it was a little hard with how ridiculous her companion was being.

"Claudia never wanted to stay here in the first place, and it's not safe. She will understand… and Mother hasn't gotten much better—a new place may help her more, and with danger coming, she will only get worse staying here," he frowned.

"Really? How can you be sure? Claudia is doing _great_ here! She _likes_ it here now—or at least enough she's gotten really into fixing it up! And Maria may be slowly recovering, but she _is_ getting better! A move could undo all that!"

A frustrated sound came from him, "But they are in danger, Catherine! _Monteriggioni_ could be attacked directly any day now, and how will that help them?! It is up to me to make the hard decisions for my family, and if they must hate me so that I may keep them safe then so be it!"

"You don't know they'll be in danger, and that's not fair to them!" she snapped right back.

"And you don't know they are safe! I am not going to make the same mistake as my father and just pretend I can handle it when I'm not even half the man he was!" he rasped, arms flying up. Catherine opened her mouth to retort, but stopped, and Ezio, too, paused. His face fell as he realized what he had said. He looked away as he leaned back against the wall, and Catherine frowned with pity. A quick glance around showed her a few men had looked their way, but they were soon pulled back to the training ring. The redhead sighed softly as she looked back to Ezio, whose flicker of hurt was obvious.

"Ezio," she began, reaching out, but he looked out at the city—away from her—so she lowered her arm back down.

"We will be leaving. Tomorrow I will ask again if you wish to come with us, and it will be the last time I am able."

"I… I understand," Catherine mumbled, looking down at the ground as she wrapped her arms around herself again.

No more was said between them—not for a while. It hadn't occurred to Catherine at all since their coming here that Ezio would be comparing himself to his father. She felt stupid for never considering it now. How could he _not_ compare himself when Mario had told and shown him so much, and he would even wear his father's garbs? Not to mention he was the head of the family now—he was the only one left to take up his father's role as provider and protector, but he was only barely nineteen. That might be an adult by Renaissance times, but still; he was too young for this. He should have been back in _Firenze_, running around, being care-free like his big brother. Instead he was here, praying he could keep his family and life together, or at least what was left of it.

So she didn't blame his anger and frustration, and felt terrible for her questions, even if she knew she had a point. Claudia _was_ happy here, and she knew Ezio had been, too, and even Maria _had_ been getting better. She knew if they stayed it would keep that way, but Ezio was scared. She didn't blame him for that, either. Hell, the more she thought about it, the more worried _she_ became. The threat of the guards in red was serious. They were getting closer to the city; testing the bounds; wolves at the door. Soon the fight would be here, and what _if_ they were after Ezio and his family? That made it all the worse.

Still, deep down, she knew they should stay. She just _knew_ they needed to, but how could she convince him? Unfortunately, she knew she couldn't. His mind was made up, and he did it out of fear for safety and a determination to protect what he held dear.

So where did that leave her?

Stuck, as always, and now she only had a day to uproot herself and move.

She would have to do it later, though, she told herself, and shook the thoughts from her mind. Training was going on, and she needed to focus on that. Oh, she would never be totally rid of the thoughts even as her body was beaten and bruised and exerted, but it would be enough, she supposed.

That, and Ezio reclaimed his usual self and began to talk to her again as the next batch of soldiers hopped into the ring to begin their bouts. He made little comments here and then; jokes and jabs, and she would laugh and return them in kind. It wasn't the same, obviously; she knew he was pained deep down, but it felt better knowing he wouldn't stay mad. Even with all the weight of responsibility on him, he was willing to act how he usually did, and her heart clenched at the thought of not leaving with him. Truly, a fierce battle waged within her, and she wasn't sure where to go.

Thus, she was glad for the distraction of the coming fight when Mario called them forth. She sighed with relief as she and Ezio trotted over to the ring. Most of the other men had gone, but some remained to watch them fight. They had a more unique style, so some would watch to learn, and others just to watch for the hell of it. Mario, of course, watched to teach them, although after nearly two years there was less and less to critique them on. In the end he always found something, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before.

"Today will be a spar—use whatever weapons you have at your disposal. You must 'kill' your opponent to win; there will be no yield. Fight as if you were fighting against the enemy," their commander explained, to which they nodded. They turned to face one another then, both drawing their blunt sword for the first rounds. Mario drew his hand downward, "Begin!"

It was a routine of sorts, their fight. Almost like a dance. They had rehearsed it enough out on their missions: slashing sides, cutting legs and shoulders, punching jaws, and stabbing throats. They were well versed in the art of killing now, and in a way that was regretful, but they both knew it was simply a reality of their lives. If they were to survive, they would have to kill, and so they had worked hard to ensure their moves were effective and efficient—especially against one another. Of course, in real battle they did not hold back at the last second; there was no hesitance as a blade tip drew near or a sword arced downward. It made for the match to last, though, and both contestants would spin and twirl and roll away from the danger before diving beneath the other's guard to land the "killing" blow. Neither would completely achieve it. There were bruises made and blood drawn and advantages obtained, but the true winner would come when they had finally exhausted themselves.

In the end, though, Catherine knew she would probably lose. Despite her endurance having grown ten-fold since her coming here, Ezio was still stronger and could last longer. His blows stole her energy and forced her to move with more effort, while he could block more easily and side-step almost casually. On the other hand, she was far better at slipping beneath his swings and striking more vulnerable points; quick jabs to sap his own energy. Still, he was only panting some, while her exhaustion as a distinct degree more with the large dribbles of sweat mixing with blood and dirt as they cascaded off her face. Ezio's head also carried beads of sweat and his shirt was a much darker shade—soaked in evidence of his efforts—but still; the end would be soon.

"Do not hesitate! Strike your opponent down! Prove your worth!" Mario shouted, slapping the training ring edge.

Catherine let out a low growl as she braced while Ezio decided to take the lead. He charged forward, arm raised and meaning to slam down onto her blade. She knew she was too weak to take the full brunt. She would have to dodge, but he would just follow and she would be on the run until he caught her. Her mind had to work at lightning speed to think of another way around it, and it gave her few, very bleak options. They were better than running, though, so she went with the first to rear itself into the forefront of her mind. She let his sword hit near the hilt of hers, though didn't carry the burden of his weight. Rather, she kept her arm somewhat loose so it moved with the motion while she moved her body towards the left and her opponent. She let her weapon go, freeing her arm to grab his wrist. Her left arm then came forth, the hidden blade extending, and aimed for his rib cage, meaning to "puncture" his lung. It wasn't necessarily an instant death blow, but it would kill anyone soon enough.

However, her efforts were waylaid when Ezio's free hand snatched her wrist in kind. Grunting, he suddenly swung his body, and she went tumbling. His momentum caused him to follow and they both rolled up. However, he got up before she did, and she was tackled just as she stood. Instinct helped her roll to prevent him getting the killing blow and then they were up again. Ezio had lost his blade, but he kept at her, throwing punches and kicks and trying to make grabs. He didn't quite have the same skillset she did, although he had his own version of her moves after she'd taught him some, but even with his lack of finesse he finally grabbed her arm, spun and twisted it behind her. He pulled her to him so her back was firmly against his chest and then brought his other arm up, extending his hidden blade and putting it to her throat. She craned her neck and tried to struggle, but his grip was a vice, and she ultimately sighed.

Catherine was beaten.

As usual.

It was to be expected, but she had made Ezio work for it, so that as what mattered.

"That is enough—Ezio is the victor," Mario called out, and the young man finally released her. She rubbed her arm, pouting slightly while her comrade grinned.

"I didn't twist too hard?"

"Nah; it'll bruise maybe at the wrist, but otherwise it's fine," she grinned back. All faces turned stoic, though, as Mario motioned them out of the ring. They obeyed at once and stood before him. They knew they had done a good job, though—their mentor was smiling.

"Well done, both of you. Catherine, you have become a fine warrior—many of the men were whispering how they would hate to be at the end of your blade," he chuckled, much to said "men's" dismay. Quite a few groans and curses to their commander were heard as he chuckled before turning to Ezio. "And you, my nephew. You have really come into your own."

Ezio smiled as he came forward and clasped the older man's arm, "Thank-you, Uncle, for all you have given me."

"You are family! Such is my duty and my desire!" Mario replied, clasping his hands together at his nephew. Ezio's smile grew a little, but there was a sadness to it. Catherine saw it, and her stomach dropped. He couldn't possibly be thinking of telling Mario _now_—could he?

"I'm glad you had me stay," the young man bowed his head respectfully. Catherine's dread grew worse. He was going to do it. He was going to tell Mario his plans.

His Uncle beamed with delight, "Good! You have reconsidered leaving!"

"Ezio-," the redhead began, meaning to stop him, but Ezio turned from them both, his head low. _'No, don't—!'_

"We sail for Spain in three days…"

Catherine's words stumbled in her throat. Three _days_? Just _days_? She knew he had said soon, but not _that _soon! Three days was right away! How could he already be leaving? How had she not known? How could he do this so suddenly? It wasn't right! Yet, she could say nothing. Her heart was hammering too fast, and her body was too cold with fear.

Before them, Mario frowned as he gestured with his hands, "But, Ezio, I have given you these skills that you might be better prepared to strike against our enemies…"

"And if they find me, I will."

The rage that brewed within Mario did so quickly and burst out just as fast. His expression grew fierce as he jabbed his finger harshly at his nephew. Ezio was silent, his gaze lowered, knowing full well what he was doing. Catherine could only watch.

"You want to _leave,_ Ezio? To throw away everything your father fought and died for? To deny your _heritage_?" the man snapped, each word an obvious drive of a knife into the young man's chest. Ezio gave no answer, and Mario's pained fury grew tenfold. He threw his hand up and turned away. "Fine! So be fit! Goodbye and good luck!"

The man stormed off then, cursing loudly as he went and grumbling all sorts of grievances. Ezio groaned, running his hand through his hair. The other men stared, looking back and forth between them. Catherine did the same, sighing deeply, but then scowled, and punched Ezio in the arm. The young man yelped, rubbing his limb.

"Are you fucking kidding me!? Why the _fuck_ did you tell him _now_?!" she shouted, not caring the other men were there.

"You said I needed to tell him, and it was an opportune moment—"

"He's your _uncle_, Ezio! Your family! You should have sat down proper and talked to him!"

The young man threw his arms up, "I did not think he would be so angry! I don't understand why he's so upset?"

"He… didn't tell you?" a voice spoke up, but not from them—Michelangelo, she realized. Both warriors looked to their fellow mercenary, confused. The man stared back, equally puzzled. "He didn't tell you."

"What are you talking about? What didn't he tell us?" Catherine pressed, and the man let out a sigh. "Why was he upset?"

"It's because Vieri has been harassing us ever since Ezio first arrived. It's… to be expected, I suppose, considering both your and Mario's heritage," Michelangelo replied, gesturing towards their commander's retreating figure as he folded his arms over his chest. "However, it was manageable until a few months ago. It is a wonder he is not _more_ furious than he is."

"God _damn _it! I was right. Vieri has been attacking because of me!" Ezio hissed, fists clenching. "I should have killed him when I had the chance! Damn it all… I need to speak with Uncle—to apologize…"

Catherine grasped his arms quickly, "Ezio, let me talk to him first. He's more likely to bite your head off right now. You… you should go rest up and get your words together… and you need to tell Claudia and Maria your plans. I'll… I'll come get you when he's ready to talk to you, okay?"

He wanted to protest; that much she could see. He wanted to do what he needed to right now, but it wasn't the time for it, and he knew it the longer he stared at her. Eventually he gave in, nodded with a sigh, and gestured towards the _Villa_.

"Go. Try and appease him… although, I am sure he will still bite my head off in the end," he managed to smile weakly.

Catherine spared him a chuckle, "Probably. I'll be back soon… hopefully. It may take a few hours, too."

"Then be quick about it—he may storm off to do something reckless if you don't," Michelangelo added. "Tell Mario the men have been taken care of and will be ready when he is."

"Uh, right. Thanks," the redhead nodded, and then nodded again to Ezio before she turned and trotted off.

She wasn't entirely sure where Mario had gone, but she assumed it was his study. He didn't particularly go anywhere else in the _Villa_ since he lived in the Barracks, although she'd seen him in the feeble armory hall once or twice. Figuring the former was most likely, she turned right and headed through Claudia's work worm. She wasn't there at present, and neither was the architect, so she continued on unmolested to the lighter room. Sure enough, the older man was storming about in front of his desk, his arms waving this way and that as he grumbled and snarled and fumed. He didn't appear to notice her even as he turned and stalked towards her. She leaned against the archway's wood panel, waiting to see if he would calm down, but there was no hope there. He was too enraged—over Ezio and Vieri. _That_ she had no doubt on, and so took her approach slowly.

First: a knock. A gentle rap on the wood. When that didn't work, she knocked harder. The older man paused at last, and turned around to he faced her. His rage ebbed a little as he realized who she was, but only for a moment; he was scowling again soon enough and gave her an accusing look. The observation hurt a little, but Mario was hurting worse right now, and so she let him glare as his fingers clenched at his side. He was not _truly_ mad; just upset, and he was confused as well. So she stayed still and quiet as she waited for him to ask his questions.

"Did you know?" he growled somewhat, and she sighed as she lowered her head and came forward a few steps.

"I did—he told me he wanted to leave about a week or two ago."

His anger flared again, "And you did not think to tell me!? After everything I have done for him—told him; trained him; showed him—he _still_ wishes to leave!? He wishes to spit on his father's grave and all those who came before him!? To spit on the Creed!?"

"Mario, that's not it!" Catherine exclaimed, raising her hands for peace, but the rage in him was too fierce. "_Please_, Mario. Please just—calm down and listen! He's not throwing it away for no reason!"

"Oh? Then, please, illuminate me," the older man scoffed. The redhead tried to not be hurt by his tone, but it was hard not to when she knew his anger for her was genuine now. She hadn't told Mario about Ezio's plans because she knew the young man needed to do it, but now she wished she had decided the opposite.

Breathing in deeply, she met the older man's gaze, "Ezio isn't leaving because he wants to—or, well, okay he does _want_ to, but he wants to because he's afraid for Claudia and Maria. Michelangelo told us that Vieri has been attacking. I think I know why you didn't tell us, but knowing that… Ezio fears the guards will eventually attack the city because _he's_ here, and that puts everyone in danger, so he wants to leave to keep everyone safe."

"He is a fool then! The Templars would not stop just because he leaves! Vieri and his bastard of a father have had their eyes on this land for far longer, and I am an Auditore as well! Furthermore, he is a Templar and we Assassins—he would come after my home whether my nephew was here or not!" Mario ranted, throwing his arms up in his frustration. "He is better off staying here! Here he would be protected and could help and—"

"—become an Assassin like his father?" Catherine concluded for him, and he paused to frown at her. She frowned back, albeit meekly. "Mario… look, I guess you maybe haven't notice, either, but... Ezio… he doesn't think… he's constantly comparing himself to his father. He's trying to do what he think his father would do and to not make his mistakes, and so he thinks his only option is to leave. Trust me, I don't want him to. I've been trying for _months_ to convince him otherwise, but he… he just… he won't budge. He's so sure it will be better to leave even after everything."

"He is _stubborn_," Mario growled again, but the fury that had swelled within him deflated as his shoulders sagged and he sighed. "Just like his father—just like an Auditore… forgive me for yelling at you, Catherine. It has been very stressful as of late, and to have Ezio suddenly say he is leaving…"

"No, no; I get it. Ezio's sorry, too, and he's going to talk to you later. I told him to wait a few hours, though," she chuckled, stepping a bit closer. The older man shook his head as if to clear the rest of his anger and leaned against the desk. She did the same next to him, watching his weary face. She swallowed a bit nervously as she looked down at her feet. "Ezio… he, ah… he asked me to come with him."

Mario head shot up, but then he nodded and sighed again, "I am not surprised. You two have become close, and he knows the truth of you. Do you…. wish to go with him?"

"I… I'm not sure," she replied with a weak shrug. "I… I know a part of me wants to, but this place is my home, too. You and the city and the other men took me in when you didn't have to. I've made a life here, in a place so different from my own home. Leaving it just… feels _wrong_."

"The choice is yours alone to make, little one," he murdered softly, clasping her shoulder gently. "I will accept what it is, but know many will miss your presence here. _I _will miss you here."

She laughed a little, "Which is why it's so hard. I have until tomorrow before he asks again… so there's that, I guess."

"Know you will always be welcome here, should you return," the older man added, but it wasn't quite as much comfort as she hoped it might be. She was still torn between her two choices, and she wasn't sure what to decide still. She knew she was leaning some way, but she couldn't decide what yet. So she pushed it aside yet again, and looked to Mario.

"So, um… is Vieri—is he connected to those guards?"

After a moment, he nodded, "Yes. He is the one sending them. Before, it was no threat—they were easy to handle. They had no idea where they were going. They didn't know the routes to take. They were scouting… but not long ago… something changed. They have become more calculated. They are no longer walking around lost and confused. They _know_ where to go. They know where some of my soldiers' routes are and have been ambushing them. He has somehow gained some advantage, and I fear… I fear we have either been betrayed or my men taken alive and tortured for information. They would not be so successful otherwise."

Catherine bit her lip. A traitor or one of their own beaten for the information? Both were options that made her belly churn. Neither spelled any good for their city. The enemy knew intimate knowledge about them. It was disheartening and put them all in danger. Something had to be done.

"What's your plan?" she asked, fingers tightening around the wood of the desk.

"We will be attacking their city soon—within the week. It is not far away in _Toscana_. _San Gimignano_. I have been sending my own scouts for weeks now; we are certain we can end this confrontation once and for all."

So it would happen after she was gone—assuming she left. Knowing that, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to leave now. How could she knowing that piece of shit scum was still alive, harming her friends and what she'd come to consider her family? The scum that was trying to destroy her home. It didn't sit right with her. She knew she needed to stay to stop him, but Ezio was leaving in three days. That wouldn't be enough time.

Catherine sighed. She needed to decide now—not later. Yet, just as she opened her mouth, a soldier suddenly burst through the doorway, panting and dirtied. Both were standing at once, Mario pressing forward to grasp the man's shoulders as he wheezed and leaned on his knees. His words were strained as he gathered himself.

"Vieri—attacking… S-soon! Day—Day after tomorrow. Attacking—attacking city. Full force. Perhaps—hundred—hundred men. N-not positive," he managed to get out between his panting. A cold chill shot though Catherine. Vieri was attacking—already? Why? How?

"Damn!" Mario snarled, turning away briefly, but then back to him. "Return to the Barracks. Tell Michelangelo to tell the men we are moving out. We cannot allow Vieri to get the upper hand. Go—quickly! I will send word to the others outside the city."

Despite being obviously exhausted, the man nodded and took off. Mario cursed again, and turned to the redheaded young woman. He grasped her shoulder.

"Catherine, I am taking my top men, but I must leave others here to defend the city. I would have you here with them."

"No."

If someone were to ask, she wouldn't have known why she said it. Honestly speaking, she should have just obeyed, but the words of the man—the thought of what would come if Vieri and his family's plans came to fruition—burned her. They scalded deep to her core, reaching into the pool of fury that resided within. If that weasel thought he could come and destroy this city, he had another thing coming. Now _Monteriggioni's_ best would becoming for his blood, and she was no exception. She couldn't allow him to do this—she couldn't allow him to harm anymore of the things she held dear. This was her city. These were her people. These were his brothers and sisters. These were her family. This was her home.

And she'd be damned if she didn't do something to protect it.

"I'm coming with you," she spoke firmly, grasping his arm back. She knew he was about to force her to say no, so she went on. "I didn't train and learn everything you had to give for no reason. I'm ready to fight, and I'm a woman—they won't expect me. What soldiers have seen me, none are alive. I can get where you and the others can't. I can sneak in. Vieri probably doesn't remember my face, either. I can get closer, or at least get him out to you. I can help, and I'm going with you. That bastard will die tonight."

Mario stared at her; watched her; tested her. He was questioning her resolve, but it was firm. She knew what she needed to do. Things were clear for her now, and it had only taken a threat—a _real_ threat acting now to make her see it. There was pain with the decision, though; she knew she had to stay, and that meant leaving another option behind. Yet, it was worth it. This place was her home, and these people were her family. Ezio had his own family to take care of, as did she, and that meant she had to stay. She would regret it for a long while—for that part that had affections for the young man, but she knew, ultimately, this was her path.

"Very well. It is time to prove your worth. Come, I will give you a proper sword for this, and something I have been meaning to give you for some time," Mario replied at last, and she felt her heart soar. His trust in her was strong, and that gave her even more confidence and courage. She would fight with him tonight, and beside her brothers, and she would bring an end to the scourge of a foul creature that should have been slayed long ago.

Catherine did not hesitate to follow her commander through the halls to the armory. There, he brought her towards the rack of weapons. There were only a few, but he picked up one of the swords. It looked of older make, but had been kept polished. It wasn't a broad sword, but neither was it a rapier. It had a bit of weight, but she was able to hold it up easily with one hand by the leather grip. She admired the curved hilt bars and the sharp edge of the blade. It was quick in its strike, and she was happy to hook the hilt to her belt and slip the blade inside. However, that was not the only gift he had to give her.

With her blade set, Mario brought her to the other part of the armory where bust were displayed, but only a few were adorned with any gear. He brought her to one where there were only two leather, shoulder pieces and a second arm bracer set before it, both of which he handed to her. They were a bit rugged and showing use, but still in fine shape.

"Unlike my men, you will not be able to move as easily when wearing armor, but you have no Assassin robes. As such, I grant you my old gear from when I was your age—and more your size," he chuckled, and then proceeded to help her tie them. The armor fit snugly enough over her shoulders, and the straps went towards the center of her chest to a buckle. From there a single strap went around her left side to another buckle at the back, which attached to the opposite side of the armor. It was steady and would do well for her. The bracer fit well enough, and with a few adjustments it was perfect. It was similar in armor plate design as her assassin blade, perhaps more elaborate, but just as effective.

"There. Now you look a proper warrior, but there is one last thing to give you the look, and for this we will need Ghita," Mario told her, and she raised a brow. Why would they need the servant matriarch? She kept her questions at bay, though, as she followed the older man towards the servant's quarters, and instead examined herself. The brown of the leather and bracers stood out a little against the dark blue, light-blue-striped colors of her tunic, which fell to her hips save for the back and cascaded down to her calves. It did match her creamy-white undershirt and pants, though, and even her dark-brown gloves and boots, so she supposed it wasn't an eyesore. Even if it had been, the usefulness of it was worth it, and so she nodded with assurance.

It was then they came to the servant's quarters, and Mario called for the woman. She had been cooking in the back where dinner almost ready, but she put it aside to adhere to the commander's request to obtain the "gift". When Catherine gave him in inquiring look, he just smiled, and so she waited until Ghita returned a minute later and presented a cloth to her. When she unwrapped it she found a hood the same color at her shirt, with light-blue stripes as well. It was essentially a continuation of her shirt, and it had a firm, strong clasp to keep it steady and in place.

"When we return, we will have Dea attach it properly, but for now we will use these clasps. Use it to hide your face when you need it," Mario explained, take the hood and having Ghita help him put it on her. Like the armor, it all fit snugly, and she was all too happy to slip the hood over her head. The beaked tip came over her face to her brow, keeping her view clear, but obscuring her features some. It felt right to wear it, and she was almost disappointed to slip it back down.

"Anymore gifts?" she grinned at the older man, whom chuckled and clasped her shoulder.

"No more. It is time to prepare for battle."

Catherine nodded, but then paused, "I… I need to talk to Ezio first. I should let him know my decision."

"…Very well. But you must be quick. We will leave within the hour to make the journey. Ghita, do you have the food prepared?"

"Yes. The servants are packing it now and will bring it to the Barracks. With any luck, you will not need it for that long. Safety and Peace, my Lord," the woman bowed, and Mario returned the gesture before she spun on her heel and headed off. The older man spared Catherine a final glance before he, too, spun around and left her to tend to his duties.

Now, it was her turn to do her duty. Although, that was perhaps too callous of way to call it. Yet, it felt like the burden of one as she returned to the main hallway. There, she paused at the stairs, looking up towards the hall that went to his room. She knew she needed to tell Ezio; he had asked or her answer, and he deserved it. Knowing it would cause him pain, though, it made her pause. Her heart stung as she realized again what her decision would mean. She would have to leave him. She would have to leave behind any hope for him behind. Any feelings she had formed would have to be set aside, and that, despite her resolve earlier, was difficult.

Yet, what hope _was_ there for her with Ezio? It was something she constantly reminded herself about, and here the truth of it was strongest. Even if she left with him, what then? She was close to them, yes, but what of it? What would happen? What was she even hoping? That they would fall in love on the run and somehow live a life like that? No. No, that was foolish. Ezio didn't even return the affections. She wasn't his type of woman, and he didn't flirt with her like those he showed actual interest in, and it would not doubt be the same even on the run with him.

The answer was obvious to her then, but, although she knew she should tell him in person, she couldn't bring herself to do so. Her feelings were still too fresh to set aside just yet; to bury beneath it all and overcome it. So she took the coward's route. She made her way to Mario's study where she found pen and parchment. There, she sighed deeply as she closed her eyes to compose herself, and then began to write.

* * *

_'Ezio. _

_I wanted to tell you this in person, but… I'm not coming with you. I can't. This place is my home. I had hoped it could be for you, too, but what you've decided as best for you and your family is taking you on a different path. I wish we could have had more time together. I wish you could have stayed, but you have your family to care for, and I… I have a city—people—to care for. For that reason, I am going with Mario to face Vieri. He plans to attack the city soon, and we have to stop it, so we're leaving to attack tonight. We may be gone by the time you read this, and… well, I was confident a little while ago we'd all come back, but Mario told us anyone could die at any time and any battle can go on for ages, so I guess it's best I say my good-bye here in case I don't see you before you go. I don't know what will become of us, but I can only pray we'll both end up alright. I hope you'll find someplace safe where you can live without fear and find the happiness you deserve. _

_And know your father would be proud of you, Ezio. If you still need proof, I'm leaving you the family crest you gave me. Remember our promise? Well, even if you told me you don't think you're a good man I'd call you a liar, so here it is. Also, know they'd all be so proud of you, too. Giovanni, Federico, Petruccio… I know you know it deep down. So no matter what you do, hold your head high and walk proudly. You're a good man, Ezio, and don't you ever forget it. _

_I really do wish we had more time. It feels like it was only yesterday we started training together, but now look at us. We've changed so much for the better… But who knows? Maybe we'll see each other again when things are better; when all these Templars and Assassins and everything don't matter. When life is like we thought it was and we can just sit on the roof and talk about everything that's happened and things we never got to say when we were younger. Back like when things were simple. Just like old times. I'd like that. I guess consider that a promise to meet again. Let's both stay alive so we can have that talk on the roof. So until then, stay safe, Ezio… and tell Claudia bye for me, alright? Give her a hug, too, and tell her to never let anyone tell her how to live her life. And if Maria ever comes back, please tell her I'm sorry I couldn't help them, and that I hope that, even if I didn't become a proper woman, that maybe—even if just a little—I made her proud. _

_So I guess this is it… I'll see you when we meet again one day. Until then, don't ever change, okay?_

_I'll see you later, Ezio.'_

* * *

Catherine could only sigh as she slipped the necklace off her neck and set it on top of the folded piece of paper. From there it was easy enough to find a servant to give to Ezio after they were gone since she couldn't muster the courage to face him. It was just too hard, but the servant promised to pass it on when he saw the young Lord later. She thanked him, and then headed off. It was no doubt terrible of her, but she hoped the young man wouldn't find her as she gathered her pack of supplies and obtained a horse, and waited for Mario with the other men outside the city. Time moved both at break neck speed, yet agonizingly slow as they waited, but soon enough their commander appeared and gave them to word to go. Together, their group raced off into the setting sun towards _Toscana_ to meet with the other men. A great battle was before them, but they were brave enough. They had a city to protect, as well; they couldn't falter, and Catherine used that strength to keep herself strong, and to keep the agony of the pain she would cause Ezio when he read the letter hours after she had reached the battle field deep in the back of her mind.

This was her choice, though. She had made her decision, and she would abide by it. _Monteriggioni_ was where she would stay, and it was there she would stand to protect it. She only hoped Ezio would forgive her when they saw each other again. It was the one thing she found able to comfort her, and it kept her mind from going back to those stone walls where a young man was given a letter and a necklace.

* * *

_I'm on a river that winds on forever  
Follow 'til I get where I'm goin'  
Maybe I'm headin' to die but I'm still gonna try  
I guess I'm goin' alone_

* * *

**28** – _End_

* * *

**TMWolf: **_Aaaaaand that's it! There's Catherine's decision. She has decided to give up her feelings for Ezio, and stay with Monteriggioni, Mario, and the rest. It's her family and home, and she's going to stay to protect just as Ezio plans to leave to protect his :) How will Ezio respond? Well... you'll see next chapter. Speaking of-fun chapter next week! The big fight chapter! :'D Yep, we're back into the game! Sooo fun times. _

_But, ah.. yeah. Oh! So for those curious... Here is a link to Catherine's outfit (replace _ with . and take out the spaces)_

_t-m-wolf_deviantart_com / art/AC-II-Catherine-Wolfe-OC-outfit-547566674_

_and a more casual with Ezio lol_

_t-m-wolf_deviantart_com / art/Catzio-Taking-a-Break-554699167_

_Anyways, that's her outfit, and now prepare for some fun stuff! Oh, and there WILL be answers to quite a few questions up to now, so be ready! :D_


	30. Iron

_**TMWolf:** Whelp, update time! Alright, so. Some news: I am going to change updates to, say, every other week. So since I am updating this week, I will update again not _next_ week, but the one after. This gives me some extra time to work on things while fitting into a job, since I may be changing. Still figuring things out, so bear with me :) _

_As usual how I write the canon characters is based upon my interpretation of the canon material~_

_Right, now for the reviews! Like always I love hearing everything you guys have to stay and feel free to leave little comments or thoughts or questions! I can't give spoilers, but I'll maybe hint ;) Also, almost to 200 reviews! You guys are AMAZING! xD_

**_Laurel:_**_ I'm glad I did, too, otherwise the story might go a very different direction, ha ha! And yes, she and Mario definitely have that going on, which will be important for her in life. And thanks so much! I really appreciate it! :)_

**_Lola:_**_ Thanks a bunch! I like it, too, ha ha ;D_

_Today's chapter was used in an AC trailer, and I'm using it here: Woodkid - Iron! It's such a great fight song!_

_Anyways, that should be it... besides the fact this is a LONG chapter... so have fun! xD Also, quite a few answers will come this chapter so get ready, guys!_

* * *

**29 **– _Iron_

* * *

**April 14 1478**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

It was dark by the time they reached _Toscana_, winding their way through the rugged terrain around the main road. They had followed the main for an hour or two, but as they neared enemy territory Mario took them into the trees and brush to conceal their approach from patrols on the road. That went well enough and any straggling men in red in their way was quickly taken care of. It enabled them to enter into the territory easily enough, sending in small groups one at a time to their designated positions. Mario ensured there were already quite a few squads of three to four men in the city milling about as he'd had done with his spies there. Their presence wasn't anything unnatural, and so there was no alarm sounded even with a slight increased presence. Other groups were positioned outside the city, and Mario's main group—the one in which she was included—went on foot from the trees towards a small farm house under the cover of night. There they were waiting for the darkness to deepen further and for their scout to return to ensure the men inside were ready and for a proper way in.

Catherine breathed in deeply as she adjusted her hood, using the motion to relax herself some. She glanced around at the eight other men with them, and then at Mario whom stood near the entrance of the two buildings, pacing some. She didn't blame him for being anxious; _all_ of them felt the same, but they were also eager for battle. Vieri and his family had insulted and badgered them for long enough. It was time to end him, and she was glad to be a part of it. She liked to think the area would be happier without the family, too, although it was in an apparent good shape from what she could see in the moonless night. The particular home they were at was abandoned, though, and they were making a point to avoid people—and attention. Thus far, they were doing well, and it was only a matter of waiting.

"You ready, little one?" Ottavio spoke up from beside her. She looked up at the man, clad in leather gear and some metal armor—far more decorated than back home. It was almost odd to see him so endowed with armaments, but they were all better equipped than usual. In fact, she and Mario were, perhaps, the least decorated, but she required less to do as she needed.

"Yes," she nodded firmly, then grinned. "Are _you_?"

He chuckled, nudging her slightly, "Always. Stay safe, Catherine. This will not be like before or any training. There are more men, properly trained, and in a place they know. You can show no mercy, and you must be more cautious."

"I know. I won't, and I will. It might be Vieri and his family giving the orders, but the men followed willingly, and I've faced enough in our lands to know they're just as cruel. I won't stay my blade," she replied firmly, eyes hardening as Ottavio clapped her shoulder.

"Good. You have really come into your own. Mario is proud of you."

Catherine spared him a smile, and her chest swelled with joy, "Thanks."

"Shame Ezio couldn't come—Mario would have been happy to have him here," the Captain sighed softly, and the redhead shared in the feeling.

"Well, he has things to protect back home, and he can keep the city safe while we're here."

"Indeed… Still, a shame, but—ah, never mind. The scout has returned. Be ready, little one," the warrior hummed as movement caught his eyes. Sure enough, the younger, lither trainee came jogging out of the darkness to Mario, panting lightly. He bowed his head respectfully before he spoke softly with the Commander, and then was briefly given another order and took off. The older man motioned them forward, and did so again to bring Catherine by his side.

"It seems Vieri expect us," Mario began, folding his arms over his chest. "He has sealed the gates and sent his men to guard them, and he has also called many back within the city to defend it, thus why there are so few on the road."

"But?" she asked, his tone suggesting there was more to it. Sure enough, he grinned slightly.

"Fortunately for us, the city is larger than his host, thus the southern gate suffers for it. This is where we will strike. I have a special task for you, though, but I will show when we are closer. Are the rest of you ready?" he asked as he turned his gaze to the other men. All nodded, and he nodded back. "Excellent. Let us go—but do not attack until I give the command!"

With that, they were off, the night their source of cover. They kept clear of the roads, avoiding anyone out and about—especially if they carried lanterns. With Vieri pulling his men back, they didn't worry over patrols, but they still kept an eye out, just in case. They kept quiet and moved as quickly as they dared through the brush, only stopping as they came to the edge of the road that ran around the city. The darkness still engulfed them, save for the flickering light of torches high on the city towers. It didn't reach far enough down to reveal them. Even so, Catherine kept low as she scanned the darkness, which she had become adjusted to. She looked towards the gate where a stable stood empty, and beyond them was a large group of guards—more than the force of theirs. That wouldn't be a problem, though. Catherine didn't doubt her brothers were far more skilled; Mario's training would have assured that.

"Catherine," her commander spoke as he grasped her shoulder from their spot in the brush beside the road. She looked to him and then to where his hand pointed. It was a stack of crates full of supplies that were no doubt meant to be used to repair the break in the wall just above it. A foolish move by the city; with it, she could easily vault up and slip over the edge. Sure enough, that proved to be exactly the plan as Mario continued, "Here is how it is going to work: the others and I will distract the guards. Once we have engaged them, you must get yourself over the wall there and find a way to open the gate. There should be a lever beside the entrance."

"Got it… did the scout learn what I'll be up against?" she asked, scanning the wall for anything.

Mario nodded, pulling out some small daggers and putting them into her hand, "Take these throwing knives. There are archers on the roofs nearby that you will need to take care of. There are also patrols, but if you can take out the archer quietly you should be alright."

Catherine examined the knives; small, but sharp and deadly. She hadn't practiced the art as much as she should have, but she knew she could use them well enough. She set them into her belt, ensuring they were sturdy, but easy to pull free.

"I'm ready. You keep the front occupied, and I'll get that gate open," she nodded firmly, and he grinned, clapping her shoulder again.

"Good. Once you hear the call, go. You will have no time to delay—our lives will be in your hands."

Catherine nodded, and that was that. It was time to fight; time to cut off the snake's head. Mario motioned to the other mercenaries and his group took off towards the gate, leaving the redhead in the brush. She wasn't to stay there long, though; in the night Mario's voice sounded like the thundering roar of the lion as he called for the charge. It caught the guards' attention at once—all looked to the oncoming squadron, and made shouts of alarm. Catherine saw no more, though; she was too busy racing towards the ledge, vaulting onto the crates and then up off them, grasped the broken ledge of the wall, and began to haul herself up. The material scraped against her gloves, and it was hard to find a proper grip with her heels, but she hoisted over the edge and crouched low, keeping away from the torch light.

She spotted two, then three archers—all within sight of the gate, which they had their focus on and bows aimed at. She could see the mechanism close by the entrance, and knew she needed to get there. She would have to take care of the archers, though, so she took her first knife and threw. It hit the man's neck, smothering his scream as he gurgled and crumpled down instead. She could see the guard closest to him turn, confused by the sudden sound, but he must not have been used to the dark yet, or perhaps he was too occupied by the commotion at the gate—either way he didn't make a concerned sound or come closer, and so turned back towards the gate. Catherine had still remained stock still, but now that she knew it was safe, she took off at a run and leaped to the roof where the archer had been. He was still sucking in blood-filled, final breaths, but he was done for. She considered using his bow and arrow, but it had fallen off the slick, slanted edge. Throwing knives it was.

The other archer was too far away for her liking just yet, so she quickly leaped to the next roof up, minding the archer. He wasn't looking her way yet, but she knew he would begin to hear her heels clicking on the tile. She kept the notion in mind as she continued leaping across a short distance between rooftops to come up behind him. She raised her arm to throw her blade, but either by sixth sense or sheer luck the man turned, and her knife struck his shoulder. He yelped in pain, but before he could do more she leaped forward, Hidden Blade extended, and shoved it into his chest—right into his heart. He was silenced at once, but the damage was done. The final archer let out a shout and she saw him aim. Heart racing, she dove for the bow of the archer she just killed, snatching up an arrow with it just as the enemy's arrow whizzed past.

She hadn't trained much with the bow and arrow, but Mario had stressed learning as many weapons as possible, so her stance was shaky, but not terrible. She had shot a bow and arrow before when she was young for the fun of it, too, but this was a much tougher weapon. However, she was much stronger than she'd been as a child, and she liked to think her aim was better, so she knocked the arrow, pulled the string back, and fired. As soon as she did, she dropped the weapon and took off. She heard a shout, though she wasn't sure it was out of pain. The man kept shouting, however, screaming how "they" were inside, but she ignored it as she leaped down to the street, raced to the near building, shot up the ledge to pull herself over it, repeated once more to get to the same level as the archer, and found him looking around wildly for her. He had no arrow ready, but once he saw her charging he drew his sword. She pulled hers out quickly, slashing up at him. She could tell he wasn't as skilled with the sword as he was the bow, and so he was shaky as he blocked her strikes.

It wasn't long—only seconds—before she found her opening, and sliced clean across his front. Blood splattered and he fell, screaming in agony. She should have cut his neck to silence him, but the battle was continuing on outside; she had no time to waste. The drop down was a bit of a doozy, but she needed to get down quick, and so slipped over the edge, went down a step or two, and then vaulted off the side. She rolled as she hit the ground, and almost reached the mechanism when more shouting came from the right. She looked just in time to see a scout lunging for her, and spun away from him. He hit the ground, but the others were right behind him. Catherine snarled as she drew her blade again and set her back to the machine, refusing to let them get behind her. There were four in total—a scout, two average men, and one clad in thicker, more elaborate armor. He was no doubt the squad leader, and he wielded a mace of sorts. She didn't like that—it would have more power than her blade, and the two normal had blades while the scout had his dagger. Their eyes gleaned dangerously as they brandished their weapons, and she knew they would not take it easy on her, even if she was a woman.

So much for getting in easier.

"He said there might be a woman. It looks like he was right," the squad leader smirked, and Catherine's brow furrowed. What did he mean? They had _expected_ her? But how? How could they have known about her? _None_ of the soldiers shed encountered would know she was alive, and there was no way they would have gleaned something as trivial as that from an interrogation.

"Wanted to kill her himself, but we can't let her do whatever it is that Auditore dog wants. Kill her, and bring her head to the little master—or should it be the body?" he continued to chuckle, and the men started to advance. Catherine didn't let them strike first. She had a feeling they wouldn't expect it, and so suddenly charged the scout. He yelped as she swung her blade low, cutting his leg. He stumbled, and she used that blunder to shuck her Hidden Blade into his gut. He made a gasp as he staggered back, touching at his bloodied gut. The others made shouts of surprise, and they surged on her.

She tried to keep back; keep space to slash with her blade and take them off one by one. They were surrounding her, though, despite her efforts. She was managing to avoid their attacks or parry them, but this wasn't good. She hadn't fought multiple people at once like this. Even on her missions she generally ended up fighting one-on-one, one-on-two at most, or she had Ezio at her back to help handle it. However, he wasn't here; he was back at the city, and she would be on her own. Wherever the other men in the city were, they were too far away to help, and Mario was stuck behind the gate. She could hear them fighting still, and at one point she thought she heard a shout for herself, but then she was blocking and dodging again.

"Got you!" the squad leader snarled, and she felt her hood grasped, along with a few locks of hair. She hissed as she was yanked back, but the man laughed at her struggles. "Time to die bit—!"

His grip suddenly faltered when the words caught in his throat, and his two cohorts paused, eyes wide with confusion. Catherine like-wise blinked, turned, and saw a figure cloaked in white behind the squad leader, whose face was filled with confused horror as he tried to look back behind him. Whatever held him there retracted, though, and there was only a small pause before he fell to his knees and then to the ground where a pool of blood formed. Standing above him was someone Catherine never expected to see, but was all too happy to see him.

Ezio.

Even in the dark, she saw him smirk slightly—a silent hello. She smirked right back and then tuned to the two remaining men. They gathered their wits then, and made to attack, but with her partner with her, they were able to make quick work. The two men were face down in the ground soon enough, and the redhead turned to the mechanism.

"We have to get it open," she told him, but before she could grab the lever he did so.

"I've got it—watch for more guards," he replied as he started to crank hard. She did as he said, but there were no other enemy squads nearby—they must have been further in. With the danger clear, she couldn't keep her questions at bay.

"Ezio, how the hell are you here!?" she exclaimed, and though he was putting effort into the cranking, he grinned.

"By horse, of course! It was not easy to find you after I arrived at first, but once the battle began it was not a problem."

"You know that's not what I meant," she huffed, to which he chuckled.

"I will tell you in full when this is done… but let us just say I could not leave with things unsaid—and with a snake at our door."

Catherine's cheeks grew hot for a brief moment. He'd read her letter. Had he come all the way for her? No, that was silly, but the thought stuck even if she knew it wasn't totally true. He'd come to end Vieri and be responsible. Still, he had a read her letter and may have come right after. Knowing him, he probably had.

The redhead wasn't given long to ponder as the gate was raised, and Mario and his men shouted victoriously. They surged in with some of the other guards behind them. They were in good shape still, while the enemy wasn't, strengthening their spirits. With Ezio and Catherine's included help, the men were soon whittled down enough that their commander was able to spare a moment to see his nephew, laugh with delight, and clap him on his shoulder.

"I admit I am surprised, but glad you are here! But there is no time for talk—we must move forward!"

Catherine stepped forward, "Mario, wait—the guards that attacked… they said someone told them there might be a 'woman' with us. Someone told them about _me_. They may know we were coming or that you put men here. Actually, that may be why Vieri was ready tonight."

"It may be," the commander rumbled unhappily, and a small murmur went through the men that weren't busy watching for trouble. The older man's eyes narrowed as he thought, "It seems we may have a traitor, which means we have no time to doddle. We must move forward with the plan. For now, it seems the alarm has not been raised. Regardless of the reason, Catherine, you will take Ezio and distract the guards ahead and keep them from raising anymore alarms. It should hopefully buy me enough time to go around and find and silence Vieri."

"Wait—Uncle, allow me to end Vieri. He would be less trouble if it were not for me, and I owe him a blade in his chest," Ezio spoke up, setting forward, but Mario shook his head.

"Vengeance is not the goal here tonight, Nephew. I understand your desire, but I will be the one to end him. Do as I ask—Catherine, see to it, and take a few men with you to be safe," Mario replied firmly, but with a slight smile, appreciating his relative's offer. However, when the young man pouted, the uncle grasped his nephew's shoulder. "If it ails you so much… both of you join me at the city's center once they are dealt with. If this goes quickly you may join me in time to give him a parting gift. Fair enough?"

"Yes, it is," Catherine smirked, tugging on Ezio's arm. "Besides, Vieri will be not nearly as fun as these guards. Anyways, the more we talk, the more we delay meeting up with him. So come on. And who will come with us, hmm? Carlo! Borso! Alessio! Giotto! Want to fight a little more?"

The four men turned and grinned, nodding eagerly. That done, Catherine spared Ezio a final look, noting he had, for the moment, set aside his need to take care of Vieri and was ready himself. He nodded to her, too, letting her take the lead here; Mario had instructed her, after all, and she knew what was going on. The other men, of course, were only along for the ride, but they kept their eagerness at bay as their group scuttled through the night, moving along the street and around a corner to the stairs where the guards had gone to. Mario's men stayed back for now, and thankfully this group hadn't been alerted by the other fighting, so they merely stood around in a rather large group of guards. After eyeing them a bit more from around the corner of the stairs, she almost gave the call to fight, but Ezio grasped her shoulder, telling her to pause and pointed to the guards. She raised a brow, but then heard them speak.

"What is Vieri up to now?" one guard sighed with exasperation.

The one across from him shrugged, "No one knows, but something has him on edge. How else to explain all the patrols?"

"We're meant to be soldiers. Instead he's turned us into nursemaids! And why?" the first guard growled.

"Shooting his mouth off again no doubt. Angering the wrong sorts of people…And so now, we pay the price," the second growled, shaking his head.

The first glanced around wary, feet shifting, "Careful, or do you want us dragged before him like Bernardo was?"

"Poor bastard. I heard Vieri took his eyes…"

"I'd like to keep mine, so let's end this conversation," the first squirmed slightly, looking around once more as if expecting the young man to appear and do just that.

The second growled slightly, "We would not have to worry if that damned mercenary didn't get the boy ideas and get him into a fright—whispering how the Auditore's will attack at any moment! His council might be useful in rooting them out, and yes we've already found two groups, and we know better to defend against them, but the man is a boar."

"It makes one wonder what made him hate his former allies, but I suppose it doesn't matter so long as it helps us… but I would not be sad if he were to be struck down tonight. Bastard has not been shy about shouting orders at us, as if he owns the place."

"Well, once we make our attack on _Monteriggioni_, his usefulness will be done with. Perhaps _he_ can lose his eyes then," the second snorted, and the conversation began to dwindle then.

Down below, Catherine scowled, brows furrowed as she turned to Ezio. He, too, was puzzled, but at the very least the conversation had confirmed a great many things: there was a traitor among them, or had been. A former mercenary was feeding Vieri information and using it against them. Two groups were apparently gone, too—most likely in the north. That meant only around seven or eight were left, which didn't bode well. Did Vieri know Mario was already racing ahead to kill him? If so, was he ready? She didn't like it. No, the hair on her neck was rising and her stomach was dropping. Something was very wrong tonight, but they couldn't falter now.

"Catherine? Ezio?" one of the men behind her called.

She looked to the young man beside her, "We need to get to Mario and tell him about this. We have a traitor here that needs to be deal with along with that snake."

"Then let us not waste time," Ezio growled, pulling his blade free, and she did the same.

She paused, "I admit I regret killing these guys a little—they only obey Vieri because punishment is worse… taking a man's _eyes_…"

"Sometimes the innocent must suffer and do vile things for their master's evil. There is nothing to be done for it. We can only mourn for their deaths to come," she heard Borso murmur behind her. She looked back at him; could see they all were somewhat remorseful, but they had a purpose here. He was right, too. Sometimes those who followed orders, no matter how innocent when doing so, had to die. It was simply a matter of war and the politics that caused it, and they had to accept it—lest they end up on the wrong end of the blade. There was nothing else for it.

So with a quick motion of her hand, they all charged.

The cover of darkness kept them hidden until the last moment when they entered into the dim torchlight, but by then it was too late for the first batch of guards. They surprised four and took them out instantly, but six more remained. Catherine and Ezio both parried their opponents while the other four men took on their own, and within seconds it was over—ten dead guards, one mercenary's arm sliced open, another's side cut, but the rest faring well enough. The two wounded assured they were alright and so they went on, fighting two more groups of two, which were quickly overwhelmed and taken care of. It was almost too easy, and it only made Catherine's worry increase. However, there was no time as they raced onwards towards the center of the city, scaling the staircases and distance in leaps and bounds.

However, as they came to an opening with a well, they had to pause—two bodies and one man still living leaned against a well. Blood was pooled around him, though, and smeared across the stone of the well. He would not be long for their world, but he perked up when he saw them. Pain was clear on his face as he struggling to sit up, and it was obvious most his strength was gone as Catherine couched beside him. She looked at where his hand was pressed to his side, but the wound stretched far beyond that both ways. There was no doubt now he would die soon.

"Catherine," he called to her, his focus wavering, but managing to hold on, "Mario is under attack—needs help! A-ambush! That—that bastard—he-! You—you must go! Now!"

She wanted to stay and help him somehow, but the shouts further up reached them then, and it was that of a massive battle. An ambush, no less. Mario was in trouble. Their brothers were in trouble. The redhead looked to Ezio and the other men, all of whom were solemn in the demise of their fellow man, but they knew they had to leave, too.

"You fought bravely, brother," she told the man, whom spared her a grin before she had to leave him behind. She hated herself for it, but there was nothing they could do, so they went on. What she saw almost made her want to turn back; a massive flood of reds and grays that were even darker in the dim light. Bodies were littered across the ground with blood pooled all around. Weapons were strewn about, and wherever there were not dead bodies, live ones clashed with blade in hand. Snarls, growls, shouts, and cries rang out through the night, and it was almost impossible to make out what was what or where their commander was.

"Find Mario—we will help the others!" one of the men behind them—Carlo, she noted—shouted, and the four darted off. Catherine glanced to Ezio, whom nodded. No words were needed. Their goal was only to find his Uncle, so they skirted around the edge at first, searching for him. They spotted him in but moments, though it felt forever, and they pushed through to his side. Most of the other men were occupied, but it was unclear who was winning. The bodies were impossible to properly tell apart, and the massing throng of soldiers were blurs of colors and flashes of reflection off swinging blades. If it weren't for the fact it was a battle, it might have been mesmerizing, and so in this moment her racing heart kept her focused as they approached their commander, whom was being pushed back by a man larger than most and dressed differently. Even so, they did not hesitate to strike at the man, whom manage to leap back just in time. It was then they saw who it was, and if Catherine thought her stomach could drop no further, she was wrong.

It was Emilio.

His features were more scarred and his beard was thick and unkempt, as was his hair, but she knew that face; she knew that glimmer of malice; that wicked smile; the gleam of fang-like teeth. He was dressed in fancier garbs with flecks of red, but nothing changed who he was. It was her former tormenter, and she knew, without doubt, _he_ was the traitor. He had sided with Vieri and given them information about them. No doubt he was the one who had allowed Vieri to get so close to the city; to use the better routes. He was the one who would have known Mario would come. He was the one who would have known who their infiltrators were. He was the one who would have the two groups killed. He was the one whispering in Vieri's ear. He was the one causing so much pain.

Once, some time ago, she would have felt pure, icy fear at the sight of him. Certainly, she had quivered before him the night he had attacked, the day he had left, and when her mind had wandered back to those moments. Yet, she had come far from those days, and now she felt only a quivering rage inside her. She hated him. Loathed him. He, above all, deserved death, and she only lamented it might not be her blade which was able to do it.

"So—the bitch and her dog did come after all! I will not let you get away this time!" he laughed, and suddenly swung his blade. She and Ezio leaped out of the way. Mario surged between them, meeting the blade, which knocked Emilio off balance. The older man followed by slamming his heel into the younger's stomach, forcing him to stumble back. Their commander took the moment to turn to them, blade still raised in defense.

"As you can see, Emilio has been the key component behind our frustrations—and this ambush. He knew we were coming, and now he is after our heads. Do not worry, though—my men and I will handle this, and end his terror!"

"Is that so old man!?" the person in question snarled as he came forward, blade swinging. Mario met it, and the two ground against each other in a stalemate. Emilio snarled, "I should have slit your throat long ago! You did not deserve to lead us, and now you have led your men to your deaths! I will take great joy in making you watch each and every one of them fall, and once they have all been bled dry I will rip apart your city stone by stone as it burns and see it turned to ash! Only then when you have felt true despair will I let you die—with my blade straight through your heart!"

"You talk too much," Mario grunted, smirking slightly just as another man appeared from the side, tackling Emilio, and sending them tumbling. The former mercenary howled with rage as he took up arms against the new man, leaving their Commander time to turn to the other two, whom had been ready to fight Emilio, but now had no need. "Both of you—go. Your brothers and I will deal with Emilio and these guards—I want you two to go on ahead and root out that snake! Find Vieri! See that justice is served!"

"But Emilio—," Catherine began, but Mario just waved her onwards.

"He is _my_ responsibility. Go! Let us be rid of both blights this night!"

"Not before I am rid of you first!"

"Mario, move!" Ezio shouted, grabbing his Uncle's arm to wring him back just as Emilio came swinging. His eyes were wild with rage—with the burning thirst for blood. It only grew worse as Catherine tore a dagger free from her belt as she dodged the blade, and shoved it right into his side. He snarled in pain as he swung again, forcing her to release the knife and fall back. The enraged man pulled it free, ignoring the blood that spewed forth and tossed it to the ground. The rage grew ten-fold in his eyes, and Catherine knew he would not rest until he saw her dead. Yet, even if he got that, she knew the battle and his malice had twisted him so much, no trail or even an ocean of blood would quench his thirst.

"Both of you, go! _Now_!" Mario shouted again, but it was Ezio grabbing her arm that finally tore Catherine's gaze from Emilio and got her running. She heard a shout of "no" and "stop" from behind, but she ignored it. As much as she wanted to see the bastard dead, Vieri needed to die more. If he fell, then the other guards would, and if Emilio was still around, he would be alone. So she ran with Ezio towards the nearby ladder. They didn't know where the snake was, so they needed a bird's eyes view, and Ezio would probably be the one to find him. He was always better at it thanks to his Vision, but then she could serve as his guard. That was fine by her, and she had no qualms with it while she raced up after him to the rooftop.

"I don't see him here-did any of the guards say where?" he asked aloud as they raced along the tiles.

"No—they were all too busy fighting or dying!" she barked back, eyes scanning the city. It was massive, though; far bigger than _Monteriggioni_. Vieri could be anywhere. She paused, panting, and tried harder. The darkness was no problem now, and with it she was able to notice a larger contingent of guards at the northern side. She pointed. "Ezio, try over there—"

She had just finished her sentence when she heard the _thunk_ of heavy boots on tile. Both she and Ezio spun to find Emilio there, blood dripping from his nose and a thick stain on his shirt where she'd stabbed him. He still wielded his blade, and though he was hurt, his rage fueled him. There was a madness to it now, though; she could see it in the way his eyes shrunk and dilated wildly as his chest heaved. How was here, though? Had he killed Mario? No. There was no way. He must have gotten away.

"Catherine," Ezio hissed, stepping forward while Emilio came closer.

"The old man can wait—I have suffered your stain on this world for long enough," he growled dangerously. Catherine unsheathed her blade, steadying herself. Her heart raced a little faster, flashes of memories of that night returning—the punch; the hate; the threat. She was stronger now, though. She wasn't weak. She had proved him wrong.

He laughed, spreading his arms wide, "Grown a pair, have you? Or are you only brave because you have your dog to fight your battles for you? Not 'man' enough to fight me on your own? Mario is even more of a fool to have you here."

"Mairo's right about one thing—you do talk too much," she ground out. "Sorry, Ezio, but looks like Vieri will have to wait."

"Fine by me—better to kill two snakes than one," the young man growled from beside her, his own blade drawn. Emilio sneered, his taunting having done nothing. She was no longer frightened of him—not truly—anymore, as well. He could not intimidate her with words and presence alone, and that was a threat to him. Of course, that would not bode well for her; no, it was all too obvious the time in his exile had driven him mad. His inability to do as he had wanted to her or to oust Mario had left him deeply seared and seeded a deep hatred in him that had only been nurtured in his travels and in his time with Vieri. Now it was in full bloom, and his insanity controlled him.

It was then she knew, Emilio was weak.

It was almost ironic.

"You will not have anyone to save you this time—I will kill your dog first, and like with Mario I will make you watch and suffer before I made you bleed," the man rumbled, grasping his blade tight with both hands.

She tightened her grip, too, "You can try."

"Let us finish this and be rid of him, Catherine," Ezio added, glancing her way, and she nodded.

Emilio curled his lip as the two began to circle him some. Although they knew they needed to be careful—he was bigger than them both, and despite his lack of clarity he was far more skilled with years of training on them—they also did not have the time. Vieri was in the city somewhere, and it might be possible he would escape if he knew what was coming for him. So, they circled, but it proved unnecessary; Emilio struck first.

He went after Catherine to start, charging with a fierce double-handed swing of his blade. She knew there was no way she could block it, so she leaped out of the way instead. He snarled, but then Ezio was there. He slashed in a curve, grazing his back when the man turned just in time. The wound only served to enrage the man more, and he slammed his fist into the Auditore's cheek. Ezio yelped as he staggered back, but then Catherine was there, swinging her blade down at his hands. He moved just slightly, causing blade edge to meet blade edge, but hers deflected enough it cut into his top hand. He howled as he changed to a one-handed grip. She was, unfortunately, too close to dodge his second punch, this one with the bloodied hand. It struck her shoulder, spinning her, and then he rammed his heel into her side, throwing her backwards. She dropped her blade, tumbling over, but had enough sense to pull a knife free from her belt.

"Don't forget about me, bastard!" Ezio snarled when Emilio stepped towards her. The older man let out a sharp cry as steel cut through the armor on his back, biting into the flesh. He swung his arms freely, slapping Ezio away, but thankfully not cutting his side. He hit the ground with a grunt, and Catherine used the moment to strike, keeping low and slashing at Emilio's legs. She knew there was a main artery there, but she missed it. Still, she cut deep, and he hissed as he reached down to grab her. She wasn't quick enough to completely escape his grasp and found her ankle pinned. She growled as she brought up her other leg and slammed the heel into his face. It briefly stunned him, allowing her to break free of his grip and roll up. Ezio lunged in time, but Emilio saw in the corner of his eye and blocked the sword before slamming his fist into the young man's face. He stumbled backwards, hitting a near wall, which dazed him a bit further.

"I have had enough of you _both_! I will not suffer this insult any longer!" the former mercenary bellowed as he charged at Catherine, swinging his blade almost wildly with one hand. His crazed demeanor made it easier, yet all the harder at the same time, too. He wielded a much larger claymore than the others, so it was hard work keeping out of its much longer and wider reach—especially when she had only a throwing knife as her main weapon. Her blade had been cast aside, and Ezio was recovering from the blow. She knew she could outlast him—for now. She had the energy, and he was bleeding in multiple places. How he still had as much strength as he did, though, she could only assume was because of his insanity; his rage. It fueled him, and it would not be stopped until he had achieved his goal or he was dead.

It would be the latter if she had anything to say about it.

At last, he took a final spin and his blade slammed into the wall, jarring him. Her dashing and diving had given her some scrapes and no doubt bruises, but she'd avoided anything fatal or devastating. She was certainly more tied now, panting more quickly, although Emilio's pants were far heavier and more ragged. Still, he showed no signs of letting up.

"Just die already!" Ezio snarled as he leaped from the side, swinging down at Emilio. He raised his arm where a thick bracer was, and for the most part the blade was stopped, but not enough; the metal dug into the flesh, but only enough to make it bleed. The wounded man howled with his rage as he grabbed Ezio, wrung him free of his weapon, and threw him at Catherine, whom caught her comrade in a bear hug to steady him. Emilio, meanwhile, let Ezio's blade drop and charged at them. The redhead glanced back, but with dread—they were too close to the edge to go that way. They would fall if they did, and so she shoved Ezio away from her and used her momentum to fling her blade at Emilio. It struck the arm grasping his sword, and either the shock of where it hit was enough or perhaps his exhaustion was at its peak, but the claymore dropped all the same. However, its wielder kept coming. Despite all his injuries, the crazed man kept charging, and Catherine could only gasp as he barreled into her, sending them tumbling and over the edge. She briefly heard Ezio scream her name as they went off, tumbling down a dangerous way to the ground. She was vaguely aware of how light she felt, and that there was a body beneath her, but then gravity returned and she slammed into said body.

The air was shoved from her lungs and her body cringed from the shock of it, though it had not taken the full force. She gasped and wheezed as she rolled off, her bones aching now. Yet, her mind managed to retain some sanity as she realized who was next to her: Emilio, and he was still moving; shifting lightly. She quickly grasped her remaining throwing knife and leaped upon him, straddling his waist and putting the blade to his throat. She meant to slit it; she meant to be rid of him forever—to finally put the fear she'd used as a weapon rather than a shackle tonight to rest. Yet, as she looked upon him, and saw his eyes, wild and moving this way and that, and how his body twitched and fidgeted, she knew there was no need. Blood pooled out around him, and some came out from his mouth and ears. He was a dead man; if not in a few moments, by morning he would be gone.

Catherine made to move, but his eyes fixated upon her, and she paused. It was then his throat made a gurgle, blood spurting out as he cleared his lungs.

"I can't—can't m-move," he rasped, his words almost inaudible with the blood in his mouth. "K-kill m-m-m-e. End—end it."

She almost did.

She was so ready to do it.

He deserved it.

He deserved to be stabbed right in the heart, yet she still stayed her blade. In its place, her fear boiled into a deep hatred. Darkness filled her eyes, and she gazed down at him long, cold, and hard. She did not rise just yet. No, she leaned close so her face was above his—so that he could see her. She wanted him to feel the same fear and agony he had made her feel all that time ago. Mario would have told her otherwise; to just make it quick; that it wasn't worth it. Her commander was not here, though, and she was but a petty human. She could not settle the loathing within her as she stared him right in the eyes.

"No," she replied, slowly. She knew she should not have taken pleasure in the way his eyes widened, pupils shrinking, but she did. "Your death will not be bathed in blood and iron… you will not die with your brothers in battle. You abandoned that fate. No, you will have no great death. You will leave this world like the pathetic scum you are; slow and alone save for the crows to salvage what remains, and it is here they will find your broken body in the morning, soaked in a pool of your own blood and agony. Now lie here and reflect on your sins."

Catherine stood then, and turned away. Emilio was no more in her mind; naught but a memory to be forgotten, and with it the pleasure of his demise. Instead, she was left empty and only feeling worse than before for it. She should have killed him, but even as Ezio joined her and returned her blade, she could not bring herself to do so. Rather, she bade her companion they continue on to find their target—the traitor was no longer a concern. Ezio, of course, understood, and they raced onward, leaving the man baying pitifully for the end, but it would not come from them, and soon they could no longer hear his cries.

"Come—back to the roof. We can see better from there…. You can make it?" Ezio asked as they approached a lower building and he turned back towards her.

She nodded, "I'm sore and will be worse tomorrow, but I'm good to go."

With that, she raced forward and started to climb. He was right on her heels, and they leaped across the roofs, pausing only to scan the area. They were closer to the northern side now, nearer to where she had seen the guards. They still weren't sure Vieri was there—Ezio's Vision couldn't make out a golden target—but there had to be a greater amount for a reason. So they continued onward, noticing the small squabbles of mercenaries and Pazzi guard going on below while they sailed above. She wanted to join them, but the fighting would go much longer if they didn't chop off the head first. They would have to mourn their brothers and give thanks for their sacrifice later—all for the greater good.

As they neared the last gate, Catherine made to go forward still—perhaps even leap to another roof—but Ezio's arm reached around her waist and pulled her back against him. She cast him a short glare, but then he motioned to the walls where more archers were. She nodded and hunkered down, but before they could even begin to council over what to do, the gates creaked and then lifted. Both crouched down even lower despite the darkness as their cover and peered over the edge. It was there, through the gate and out from the darkness of the countryside, that four figures emerged. Only one she recognized—Vieri—but the others were new. However, two of them wore garbs similar to their target, and one even bore a resemblance, so she could only assume that was Vieri's father and some other relative. Who was the fourth, though? She couldn't help feeling his dark cloak was familiar, but where would she have seen it from? Briefly, she thought she felt a flicker of warmth that she hadn't for a long, long time, but it was lost to her as the cloaked man stopped, gazed out into the dark as if he just _knew_ they might be there, and then turned to the others. Catherine glanced back at Ezio, whom still kept an arm around her, as if to help keep her covered. He glanced at her as well, but then they both returned their attention to the group.

"It is settled," the cloak man spoke, just barely enough for them to hear from where they were. "Vieri, you will remain here to coordinate the mercenaries. Francesco will organize our forces in the city and send word when it is time to strike. Jacopo, your job is to calm the citizens once the deed is done."

_Francesco?_ She recalled Giovanni mentioning the name before, and by Ezio's shifting, she figured he knew it, too. Jacopo, however, was new, but had to be related. He was far older than the father and son, though—perhaps a grandfather? They were questions for another time, as Vieri lifted his arms, an annoyed sneer on his face.

"What of that drunkard, Mario? He continues to harass my forces and I fear he'll discover what we intend," the young man huffed, and Catherine would have been glad to shove her Hidden Blade down his throat for insulting her commander like that. To dare call him a drunkard!

Jacopo nodded, looking to the hooded man, "He has always been trouble—just like that bastard brother of his."

Ezio visibly flinched, and she felt his arm tighten around her some, as if using it to keep himself rooted. She lifted her arm to grasp his, squeezing slightly; urging him to stay calm. She, too, felt a flicker of rage at the man's words. Giovanni was a far better man that this Francesco could ever be, and now she wondered if the man was involved. Ezio had suspected as much after learning Vieri's family were Templar and that his father was to present evidence against Francesco, whom had been imprisoned at the time. However, nothing was yet so clear. Still, it was beginning to look like it.

Vieri turned to Francesco, imploring, "Then let me reunite them, father!

"There will be plenty of time to clean up the trash when we are finished," the hooded man spoke up, placing a hand on Vieri's shoulder to calm him. When the young man nodded and he relaxed, the man released his hold. Just barely, she could make out a beard, and incredibly elaborate clothes underneath. She did not doubt he was someone powerful. "Now, is there anything else..? Good. May the Father of Understanding guide you!"

The hooded man brought his hand to his chest—right over his heart—and the others copied the motion as they echoed him. They bowed their heads respectfully and then the hooded man left through the gate with a squadron of red-clothed soldiers, Jacopo, and Francesco right on his heels. Catherine felt the urge to chase after, potentially even end them right then and there, but Mario had given them specific instructions. Vieri had to die—tonight.

"We will strike once the gate is—" Ezio began, but was cut off as a soldier came running from the alleyway, shouting.

"Commander! Commander!"

Vieri rolled his eyes as he turned towards the man, "_What_?"

"Mario Auditore has invaded the city as the Mercenary said he would! He comes for you!" the soldier replied, but instead of cowering, the young man just laughed.

"That traitor had proved useful then. I will have to promote him at this rate, or perhaps just put him under my heel a little more, I cannot decide. I will leave it for later, though—we must not keep that Auditore scum waiting!" he smirked, clenching his fist with early victory, and then raced off. A few soldiers went with him, and Catherine and Ezio made to follow. However, they were waylaid once again as a commotion came from the alleyway. It was Mario and his men in force, coming to face the large group of remaining soldiers at the north wall. Their brothers were beaten, bloodies, and bruised, but still brimming with energy. They attacked at once, and the world again was a clash of iron and bodies; warriors twisting and barreling and falling. She and Ezio could have no part it in yet, though—their snake had raced up the ramparts to a towers where he shielded himself with goons while he shouted orders from above.

"Are you ready, Catherine?" Ezio growled deeply, eyes hardening as he glared at Vieri in the dark. His whole body was tense; muscles ready to spring into action and end this.

She nodded, "Always. There are three guards on the wall—if we take them out, I can handle the two he has with him while you end him."

"Exactly what I was thinking. Let's go."

No more words were needed as they took off, leaping from the roof to the make-shift wooden stairs just beyond. They both landed and rolled, catching the guards' attention. However, Ezio was faster and already shoved his blade deep into the gut of the nearest. Before the second could react, Catherine rammed her heel into his knee cap, which gave a sickening crack, and then grasped the back of his neck to shove her own Hidden Blade into his throat. Both were dead when they fell, and the last was taken care of with a quick slash of Ezio's blade. All that remained were the final two, and her heart raced as the burning heat of adrenaline and battle filled her once more. She felt it everywhere, and it invigorated her as they leaped over the side together, surprising the trio.

"So you _did_ come, Auditore," Vieri smirked, freeing his blade. His two goons did the same, though they appeared nervous. Their master glanced between his two enemies. "And you brought a friend… no, it can't be—your little whore? Have you trained her to bite now, too?"

"This ends _now_, Vieri!" Ezio snarled, taking a step forward.

The young man smirked, "You're right. It does—with your head on a pike. I will gladly reunite you with your family, Auditore dog, and then I will take great pleasure in sending your Uncle with you! Oh, and I will enjoy taming your little bitch even more. Guards, apprehend her while I deal with this mongrel, and try to keep her _mostly_ intact. I prefer a pretty face."

"You will regret those words, you bastard," the young man rumbled as he came forward. The two guards left their master's side, leaving Catherine to deal with them. She said nothing as they approached, doing what she could to keep them in front. She kept one hand on her blade, eyes flicking between them both. Vaguely, she had an advantage of sorts: they weren't out to kill her. Vieri wanted to keep her as his whore, and now his goons would suffer for it. Still, she knew she would suffer some, too. Despite the fact they appeared not nearly as trained—their stance was shaky, and the fighting in general had made them wary—they outnumbered her, and she hadn't trained two on one much. She was not despaired, though; she knew she could win. She _had_ to win.

"Make this easy, woman," one snapped as he charged, slashing at her. It surprised her how easy it seemed to side step and then lunge forward, Hidden Blade extended, and shove it into his side. He howled in agony, but she didn't stop as she then latched her hand around his neck, glanced back at the near edge, and wrung his backwards. He stumbled, hit the wall, and momentum kept him going. He fell below, screaming, but then he was quiet. She turned to the other goon, eyes wide, but the narrowed with rage.

"You bitch!" he howled and he came for her. He was more cautious, though; he made a simple strike, but was ready for her return slash when she dodged. He reared back and then spun to make a horizontal attack. She ducked in a backwards bend, but her boot slipped and she fell. The man laughed as he swung downwards with both arms, to which she lifted hers to block it. She grunted at the effort, the man stronger than her although they weren't much different in size. She had to push with her other hand against the blade while he pushed right back down on her. She hissed as her muscles strained, pressing her already sore back into the stone. Her eyes briefly glanced down, saw he was exposed, and so took the opportunity to bring her leg up and ram her heel straight between his legs. The effect was instantaneous; all power left his arms as he wheezed and reached for his groin. She did hesitate to shove her blade straight through his gut, push to her knees, and then ram him over. He made a chocking gasp, but then she pulled her blade free and looked to see how Ezio was faring.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Catherine didn't know how, but Vieri had knocked away Ezio's blade. Her friend was fighting with his Hidden Blade, using it to block and fend off the other man's attacks. Vieri, of course, was laughing victoriously, assured he would win, and the redhead knew he could—possibly could. Ezio was weakening—he had a hit to his leg, and he couldn't keep it going. Vieri had a wound as well, but he was in far better shape after having done no fighting at all. Ezio needed help, but this was his fight, wasn't it? She needed to let him do this—or should she not? She didn't know.

Then Ezio's boot hit an uneven cobble. He went tumbling backwards, eyes wide. Vieri kept coming, grin wide, eyes bright with bloodlust he would satisfy. Catherine surged forward, Ezio's name ready to burst forth from her lips. She would get there too late, though—she was too far away. She had no throwing knives. Her sword wouldn't go fast enough. Her legs couldn't move fast enough. Vieri would slash his blade down and cleave straight through Ezio. She wasn't going to make it.

Time slowed as she saw the young man's arm draw back; saw Ezio try to rise as he kept his Hidden Blade out to block, but it wouldn't be strong enough. The fire in her flared almost painfully as she willed her body faster.

And then time stopped, and her head exploded while her vision was flooded in blinding light. The heat and weight and blindness was familiar, and she felt as though her entire existence had burst like a star. When she opened her eyes—or had they always been opened—there were lights everywhere. All kinds of lines upon lines upon more lines entwined with one another to form shapes—recognizable shapes. She saw two bodies; both male, one on the ground, one standing with a weapon. The lines beneath them were stones cemented together, but they weren't whole. Nothing was whole. There were seams between all the lines, as if looking through a see-through surface, but her feet stood firmly upon them. When she looked out, she saw more lines below, though they were more blurred; above they were not unlike currents; all were a great mesh of light that swirled and moved and _pulsed_. Except for her. Lifting her arms, she saw she was a true being. Her form was not made of light, but rather flesh and bone. Her body was heavy and hot—but mostly heavy. There was a dull ache in her head, and she found breathing difficult.

She knew this place, though. She'd been here before, only different. She had not seen the lines before, but there were symbols around her feet and in the air. They flashed and flickered wildly, never staying in one spot or staying the same. Again she didn't understand them, and it was honestly hard to think. The heat within her was growing worse, and it was the most terrible in her pocket. She reached there, and from it she brought out an item she had no touched for what felt an eternity and only moved it to her pocket out of mere habit. Her Clock, now blazing like the sun, was an inferno in her grasp, though it did not melt her hand, and tendrils of light and all kinds of symbols sprang around it.

Suddenly: clarity.

Her Clock.

It had activated.

Time had stopped.

And now—now she understood less.

**"It is time."**

Catherine spun around and gasped. The man. The God. The one who had brought her here to this time. He was just standing there in all his ethereal, majestic glory, unchanged from before. He was made of light, but not in the same tendrils as the rest of the world. He was not whole, though; not fully, but he was more real than the rest of it, yet she could scarcely believe the man was truly there. She had almost thought him a figment of her imagination, but now he was here again, and staring at her, almost as if pleased, yet that wasn't true; his face was more impassive; unreadable.

"You—you!" was all the redhead could gasp, her body still struggling.

**"It seems we chose wisely to send you to before. You have become stronger; more suitable. Still not as We wish, but time is even less now. Things are in motion, and they cannot be stopped. Yet, they are changed worse than We feared. Even now, they are wrong," **the man mused, ignoring her exclamation, and instead pointed beyond her. Catherine turned and realized he was gesturing to the two bodies made of light—to Ezio and Vieri.

"'Wrong'?" Catherine asked, turning back. "What do you mean 'wrong'? What the hell is going on!? Why are you just _now_ activating again after all this time!? Why didn't you activate before everything actually went to fucking hell!"

The man regarded her, head tilted slightly, as if confused, though his face still showed nothing, **"It is 'wrong' because things are not as they should be. A disruption in the flow has sent the path wayward, and We required one to set it straight again. We sent you back further from when was needed to ensure you would become strong enough, and so you have. You are now ready to begin your task."**

"What? Wait—just fucking stop and tell me what the hell is going on!?" Catherine screamed now. "Why did you bring me back here!? Why is the Clock only now working? Why wouldn't you let it work so I could save the others—to save Ezio's family?!"

**"Because that was what must be," **the man replied, his voice a little stern. **"The Clock is a tool, and you are its user. We have brought you here for a task: to ensure the timeline is maintained."**

"So—what? Giovanni and 'Rico and Petruccio were supposed to die!?"

**"Yes. Their fate was to die, and so the Clock has been made to ensure this. It was made to be used for a select purpose. You, as its wielder, are only to use its power as is required—no more, no less—and you are the sole one to use it. This, too, has been programmed into the Clock to be assured. None who wish it parted from you may wield it, and it will always ensure itself is returned to you and only you. Such as it must be for its purpose to be fulfilled."**

"That's fucking _bullshit_! I could have saved them you fucking bastard! And now what the fuck am I suppose to do? Ezio's about to die, and all this thing fucking does is stop time! How the hell is that supposed to help?!" the redhead snarled, ignoring the growing throb in her mind; as if telling her to be silent. She would not, though—not anymore.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, **"You cannot undo what **_**must **_**be. It is not allowed. You may only use the power to ensure the timeline is maintained. As We have said, things are not as they should be. The Mark of Cain was not meant to be victorious this night. The Brotherhood should not be about to fall. You must aid Him now. You must undo the wrong here."**

Catherine turned to see Ezio and Vieri, locked in their positions still, "I have to help… Ezio? _He's_ the one I'm supposed to help? How?"

She walked away from the man then, though paused when she stepped down, recalling the floor as made of light, but then realized it was stable, as if normal. She ventured further, coming to stand before the two. Carefully, she reached out with her one hand and grasped at the tendrils that made Vieri. They were searing hot and she released them with a yelp. As she did so, though, they shifted as much as she had pushed, and were out of line. It made his arm obscured and unnatural looking, but she could see it was slowly starting to return to place.

**"The light—it is the fabric of this world. What you see before you is a different kind of Vision, as you mortals call it. It is one only We have possessed and used, but with the Clock **_**you**_** may do so now. You see what can be done. You may manipulate the threads that shape your existence. You may push and press and **_**cut**_**."**

"I don't—I don't understand," the redhead rasped, her mind desperately trying to make sense of this. How was this even happening? Was this supposed to be some alternate dimensional thing or _something_? And what did he mean by "fabric of the world"? That didn't make sense at all! Hell, how was this even happening, and why hadn't it happened before?

**"Take up your blade, mortal," **the man commanded, arm lifting to point at the weapon, also whole. It was not made of light even as she drew it, and her eyes turned to the two figures. **"And **_**cut**_** the threads; mold them into what must be. Protect the Brotherhood; ensure that time is as it should be. The Clock will show you the way, and when you have finished your work, you will be returned home. This, We promise. But be warned, mortal: this power was not meant for your kind. You must not waste it, even in your task."**

"Wait—what? What does _that_ mean?" Catherine asked with increasing exasperation as she turned to the man. However, her "guide" was moving back, as if floating away, and growing dimmer. She stepped toward him. "No, wait, stop! I don't understand! You have to explain things! No! Come back you bastard!"

It was futile, though; the man was gone, and Catherine was alone in this strange world of threads of light and confusion. The man had only given her the vaguest of leads to go on, and even worse to think on. She was supposed to protect the timeline? Her Clock had the power to alter the fabric of the world? What the hell was all this? And apparently she could "cut" it? Was this some joke? But—he had said she could go home if she did this. She could see her mother again. Her chance _wasn't_ gone. She could still go home!

The thought alone invigorated her, despite her endless questions. It spurred her to spin back around to the figures of Ezio and Vieri. Carefully, she brought her blade out and nudged the light with it. She could see the steel grow white-hot instantly, but it cooled just as fast when she pulled it away, almost as if it hadn't happened. As with her hand, the tendril only pushed away and came back, but when she peered closer she saw a small cut—just a tiny sliver of an indent in the thread. Her blade had sliced through it just barely.

_'Cut the threads,'_ she heard the man's voice echo, and realization dawned upon her as the Clock grew warmer and her head heavier. The throbbing was much worse, but she ignored it as she lifted her blade high. It was more difficult than she liked, but she got it above her head, and then with a mighty growl, brought it down fast and hard upon Vieri's arms, slicing clean through both set of lines. It was like cutting through air. Her momentum was too much and she stumbled backwards when her blade banged off the stone. At the same time the throbbing grew worse, and her vision was blinded as her Clock burst with light.

Her body became lighter. The air was cool, and she realized there _was_ air. The sky was dark, but not black, and the lines were gone. The sounds of battle blasted into her ears, but above it all was a sudden ear-piercing scream of agony. She looked up, having stumbled back and sideways, and saw it came from Vieri. His eyes were wide and his face splattered with red—blood, that came from the severed stumps where his hands had been. The cut was clean through flesh and bone, and Catherine knew it had been her doing. She had done that. She had cut the threads of his wrists, and now his hand and blade were on the ground while he staggered back, screaming endlessly.

Ezio, too, had wide-eyes, and his clothes were stained with the same blood. He was in shock, briefly, but when he looked to Catherine, he regained some of his focus. Vieri had been denied his killing blow, and now it was Ezio's turn to have his. Gritting his teeth, the young man shoved off his legs, extended his Hidden Blade, and shoved it into his enemy' chest, taking him to the ground. The screaming stopped then, as if Vieri's pain was gone. Perhaps it was the shock, but either way, Ezio grasped his enemy's collar, and brought him close.

"What are you and your allies planning? Is this what my father discovered? Is this why he was killed!?" he demanded, shaking the young man.

Vieri, despite whatever agony he was in, chuckled as the blood pooled from him, "I'm sorry, were you hoping for a confession? I'm sorry, but I just don't have… the time… A pity, really. In another world, we might even have been…friends."

The last life left him then, his body going still and his eyes gazing straight ahead—the look of death. She knew it well, but it was not enough for Ezio. His rage spewed forth as he shook Vieri's prone form.

"Piece of shit! I only wish you'd suffered more! You met the fate you deserved! I hope yo—"

"_Enough_, Ezio! Show some respect!" another voice shouted, and Catherine spun to find Mario there, intact, and only a little beaten up. She hadn't even heard him coming. Then again, it was hard to focus with her head throbbing. However, she found enough sense to glance down at her Clock, recall what she had done, and put it back into her pocket. She knew she would need to tell them—to tell Mario, anyways. For now, though, she needed to make sense of it herself, and the others needed her. In a bit. She still needed to remember how to breathe right, and make sure she was steady. So for now, she kept quiet as the older man reprimanded his nephew, whom shoved Vieri's body to the ground.

"_Respect_? After all that's happened? Do he think he would have shown either of such kindness!?" Ezio barked, jabbing a finger at the body as he came closer. Mario was unfazed as he pointed a finger at his nephew in return.

"You are not Vieri. Do not become him," he spoke calmly, and then moved to Vieri's side. His eyes noted the handless stumps and glanced back at Catherine, whom could only blearily stare back. He said nothing of it, though, and instead pulled Vieri's eyes closed. "May death provide the peace you sought. Rest in peace."

Catherine personally didn't see how Mario could show such kindness, either, but she knew he was right to do so. Ezio, she imagined, might need more time, but that was something to deal with later. Right now she was exhausted, and so still only watched as his Uncle pulled out a letter and handed it to the young man.

"Take this. Read it when you have the time. For now, though, our work here is finished. We should return to the _Villa_," he stated softly as Ezio took it, and then turned to Catherine. He approached her slowly, grasping her shoulders gently. He inspected her, and she had a feeling he saw how weary she was and what new troubles she felt. "Are you alright? Did… something happen?"

"Later... and Emilio is dead. Is everyone…?"

"We have lost many, but many more remain. You did well tonight, little one. Both of you did. Now it is time to return home and rest. We will have a cart to take home the wounded—you may ride with them, if you wish."

She paused, thinking, but then shook her head, "I'll be fine. And Mario? I'm glad you're alright."

"As am I," he grinned, and then chuckled when she embraced him despite her weariness. He pat her back gently before she released him, allowing him to head back down, and shout that they were victorious—a loud cheer rang out—and that it was time to return home to celebrate. Catherine was ready to relax. _Real_ battle was exhausting, and finding out you were meant to save the timeline or at least protect it was even more so. Of course, she wasn't even exactly sure if that was what she was supposed to do. It was all just too confusing.

"Catherine?" the familiar voice of Ezio rang out, and she found him at her side, looking on with concern as he placed a scroll she hadn't noticed he had into his vest.

She smiled, albeit a little weakly, "We did it."

"Yes, we did," he chuckled back, but grew somber again. "Catherine, what… how did…?"

Shit. He knew, or he saw it. She knew he knew the truth about her, but she wasn't sure she'd wanted him to know about the actual _powers_. Then again, she'd wished _she_ didn't know about it.

"I don't know. And frankly… I just want to sleep right now."

He laughed a little then, wrapping an arm around her, "I know the feeling. Want me to carry you?"

"I'm not _that_ tired," she snickered, pushing him away—she mentally winced at how much effort that seemed to take—and headed for the edge. "Remind me to hit you later for that, okay?"

"Of course," he continued to laugh, following her and helped to ease her over the edge. He hopped down after and paused with her to see the men cheering and clapping each other in victory over the enemy. It invigorated her some, knowing they _had_ won, but at the same time, there were still many more questions. Their enemy was larger than she had imagined, and now she had another fact to deal with that rest soundly in her pocket, acting as if it hadn't activated at all.

"Um… Catherine… back there—I… I acted… poorly, I realize… I didn't… I was just so…," Ezio began, his head downcast. Catherine understood, or thought she did. Either way, she reached over to gasp his hand and squeeze it.

"Ezio, it's okay. You were angry. You know what to do now, though, and you'll be better next time… we both will," she smiled softly, and after meeting her gaze for a few moments, he smiled back and returned the squeeze.

"Yes, we will. But now we best leave, lest we get left behind," he chuckled and tugged her after him.

Catherine was all too happy to led along and join the men below. She was even happier to know who was alive, although realizing who was dead did damper the mood. They would not be forgotten, though, and they would celebrate in their stead. Their sacrifice would be honored, and they could rest easy knowing their sacrifice had led to victory. Indeed, there would be quite the celebration back at _Monteriggioni_, but first they found carts and horses to take the wounded, while more mounts were found for those who could ride. Catherine decided to sit upon the front of the cart, and Ezio was there with her driving. It was a long road back, so she was glad for his company. She was glad for his shoulder, too, because it wasn't far into the hours-long journey that she fell fast asleep on it with all her worries coming with her.

* * *

**29 **_– End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Right, so. Like I mentioned a few chapters back: **I CHANGED THE SEX OF THE PERSON SHE SEES IN THE CLOCK. **There are reasons, which... won't be terrible apparent because it's like super-background stuff, but just know that the Goddess is now a God :) Just to clarify._

_Now, to also clarify: The Clock's power is going to still be a bit of mystery as Catherine is going to work through that some on her own, but you can get some guesses. Time is obviously one. You can hypothesize on the other. But, the main purpose is to MAINTAIN THE TIMELINE. This means this story is actively TRYING TO KEEP THE STORY STRAIGHT. This also means there are some things changed-like Ezio almost dying here. Not all changes will be huge or obvious, but some WILL be big. You'll see as it goes :) Not to mention there's still many questions, and Mr. God is rather illusive. So stick around! There's more to be seen with the odd device..._

_So, some other answered questions: **Emilio** was the one who gave secrets to the Pazzi to figure out how to attack the city better. He's the one whose made things more difficult and caused a lot of stress. That's right-he wasn't gone just yet! He does have a quick ending, but he was never meant to be a super long antagonist, so his ending kind of came quick, but yeah. So he's been the cause of a lot of trouble, but now he's done with yaaay. _

_And, hhmmm... well, not too many other big questions that were answered... besides, well, looks like Ezio decided to stay! **That **will be a big topic for next chapter, and so we begin our trek back into the game full throttle! So stay tuned! We got more fun stuff to come :)_


	31. Southern Sun

**TMWolf: **_And update time! As I said, updates are every other week now, which works good for me. I also got a new job, so settling into that, but the schedule is pretty decent so it's not taking away from writing much with the new update schedule. So I should always generally be on time :) Anyways, time for post-battle talks and what not and all those good feels. Also: AC: CHRONOS HIT 200 REVIEWS (202 RIGHT NOW) YAAAAAAAAAAY! Thank-you so much everyone! You guys are awesome! xD_

_For guest reviews:_

**_HarryPotterlover: _**_Awwww yaaaaaaay! I'm so glad you love it! I hope you'll continue to love it, and keep an eye on Catzio-there's a lot to be had with them ;)_

_**Laurel**: You're telling me! I had to write that long thing haha! xD Also, sorry but updates are to be every other week now, but I promise it's worth the wait! (or it better be else I'm not doing my job right!)_

**_Lola:_**_ He does make a good villain. Kinda. xD_

**_xoxo: _**_I'm going to assume you've read the next few chapters, so don't worry-Cat is just alright xD_

_And that's about it really... besides, of course, the song is by Boy &amp; Bear - Southern Sun. Nothing to do really with the chapter. Kinda. I don't think so anyways, but it fits. At some point. Trust me xD_

_Anyways. So. That's about it. Time for some post-battle stuff! :'D_

* * *

**30** _– Southern Sun_

* * *

**April 14 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Catherine—Catherine, wake up. We're almost there. You can see the city in the distance."

The redhead yawned as she lifted her head from Ezio's shoulder, rubbing at her eyes. It was still dark, but it had to be near morning as the approached the last bend before the city would be fully exposed before them. She looked around, taking note of the other carts, one ahead, two more behind, and then the decently-sized entourage of horses all around. Mario led them on a stallion, and she could make out Ottavio leading the front cart. They had been traveling for hours now, and there was a thick scent of blood from behind. There was also the distinct scent of sweat and grime, which made her nose curl. After all the celebrations they would all need long baths.

"How is everyone faring?" she asked after another yawn.

He looked back, "I think we lost one or two, but the others are staying strong. The Doctor met us in one of the trade towns along the way and brought some help, so they've been tending to whoever they can. He said he has a few homes set up to really take care of them in the city, so they should pull through alright."

"Oh, good. Did Mario say what would happen to those who didn't make it at _San Gimignano_?"

"We could not gather them all, and there were not enough carts. Many had to be left, but those we did manage to bring with us will be given proper funerals."

"Oh," she sighed softly as she gazed through the slits of the clothed top of their cart. She could see most of the men sleeping now, or some were possibly unconscious. Hopefully all the wounded would make it through. "I guess we should just be glad we made it back. How are you doing, by the way? Did you drive all the way here?"

He chuckled, "I did, but my mind is too busy to rest. I've a great deal on it after everything that has happened tonight. I need to speak to Mario for sure—if he is not too drunk after this."

"Please. Have you ever seen him drunk? I _know_ he wasn't during Christmas celebrations and everyone drank a _lot_," she snickered back, getting a laugh from him.

"That is true. I suppose I will speak to him tonight then…. And if you are not too weary, I would have you there, too," he mused, and when she looked at him with a raised brow, he went on. "I believe there are things you should hear."

"…That you can't tell me now?" she mused a bit wryly.

He smirked, "Not yet. It's for both of you. I need to speak with Mother and Claudia, as well."

"I'm sure they'll be thrilled you're back safe and sound—unless they think you're off fraternizing with a woman."

"You and your jealousy," he teased, earning a quick smack to his arm as he laughed. "No, I told them I would be back… and… well, I think I know how to bring Mother back some—here."

Ezio handed her the reigns and then shuffled through his vest to bring out a white feather. He twirled it briefly, his smile gentle.

"A feather?" she inquired.

He nodded, "Yes. Claudia mentioned Mother has been holding feathers—the ones Petruccio had been using for… well, he never said. He was making a surprise, but he was taken before he could finish it. It had to do with feathers, though, so I think… I think if I bring her some, she will come back to us. Maybe. I hope so."

"Hey, it's worth a shot," Catherine replied, nudging him gently. "If it does work, let me know, yeah? I'll see about getting feathers for her, too."

"Of course—the more help the better… but first I have to make it work. But I suppose that will need to wait. It will take a while to get all the men into the makeshift infirmary the Doctor has."

The redhead glanced back again, "Yeah… but at least we didn't suffer too many losses… what will happen to the city, by the way? Did Mario say he'd put his soldiers there, or…?"

"He said nothing of it, and I'm not sure he can spread his influence that far. It is deep in Pazzi territory, which means it belongs to the Templars."

"Francesco and Jacopo… we need to tell Mario about what we saw."

He nodded, "That is exactly what I intended. I only wish I could have learned _something_ from Vieri."

"We learned enough when he was alive—we'll just have to try and figure out the rest on our own, or from the others. But, like you said—we have to help the wounded first. Including you. I know you got hurt, and you still have blood stains."

He rolled his eyes, "I'm fine."

Catherine gave him a look, so he sighed.

"Alright, alright—but only if you do the same."

"Yeah, yeah. Just drive and don't run us off the road."

Ezio laughed, and she joined him briefly, creating a sense of ease among them. As they drew closer to the city, it appeared to fall upon the other men, too, and there was already call for alcohol, but Mario was quick to silence it as he dismounted at the city gates. A group of people were already there to meet them—the city folk, ready and willing to help. Before the merriment, there were men to be tended to, and so everyone who could helped where they were able. The Doctor orchestrated it; giving orders here and there; telling where to take who; directing the citizens to begin certain actions to help with recovery. It was all moving quite smoothly, and soon Mario was left to give the orders while the Doctor hurried back inside to begin tending to patients. Those who could wait were left to the city-folk or to just do so themselves if they were able. Catherine and Ezio were part of the latter, and from what little she'd learned from the Doctor she was able to examine her companion's wounds. They weren't as bad as she thought—most just superficial and already not bleeding much, so she wrapped everything she could, ignoring any sultry comments or flirts. He, likewise, helped wrap her own wounds, though she was actually better off. Her back and limbs still ached, but she wasn't surprised after everything that happened.

Overall, Catherine was glad to see not many of them had perished or were on the verge. Most only had flesh wounds that required stitching or wrapping, but they would survive and thrive, and many were joking and asking for ale and wine to start the celebrations. It might have been some doom and gloom for those in dire need, but there was certainly joy about them all, and it made her smile. It made a lot of them smile, actually, and even Mario relaxed as the last of the men needing care were brought into the makeshift hospital. The doors there were quickly closed and work began, but for those left to their own devices other doors soon opened. City-folk woken by the commotion brought out food and drink for the men to help celebrate in their victory and to revel in the relief of knowing they would not be troubled anymore—or at least not for a long while.

So the celebrations began, and even though it was far into the night, people were waking to join in the merriment. Lights were lit, tables brought out, more food and more drink, and soon singing and cheering was going on. Catherine and Ezio joined in as they could, though neither partook much of the drink. They still had business to attend to, but they were happy to share congratulations with the men and people as they made their way towards the _Villa_. Most of the celebrations were in the main alleyway and in the training area, so they got a small reprieve as they ascended the stairs, but once around the corner they saw the decent-sized group of mercenaries around their Commander, all with a drink in hand and a basket of food at their feet. Mario was laughing happily and did so even louder as he saw them approach.

He gestured to them, "And here they are—our champions! Catherine and her companion, Ezio!"

"All hail Catherine and her companion!" the other men whooped with laughter, raising their mugs.

"Hey!" Ezio barked, feigning hurt. "I was hardly _just_ a companion! I killed just as many men as she did!"

"Oh, shush, _sidekick_, and fetch me my drink," Catherine smirked, shooing him over, and getting a few more laughs. Of course, they all knew both had done equal measure and were both equally worthy of praise.

"Well, seeing as these lot have wasted no time in starting the celebrations," the young man hummed, leaning down to snatch a bottle and toss it to her, "it would be my honor, my Lady."

"And why would we not?!" Mario grinned. "You have both done us a great service! With Vieri dead and his forces destroyed, _Toscana_ will grow quiet once more. Do you know what that means?"

"No more work!" one man shouted.

"We can drink all day!" another chimed in before guzzling his bottle.

"And with whores!" a third laughed, rubbing his fingers together. A short pause followed, more than a few eyes flicking to Catherine. The man appeared apologetic for a brief moment before laughing again, lifting his arms in a shrug. "What?! It's true!"

Catherine laughed, too, "So it is—but you'll have to go to the next town over for that! Our brothel still isn't done yet."

"Worth the travel," the third man smirked, and received more chuckles. Even Mario joined in—at least until he began to walk and motioned for the redhead and his nephew to follow, and even bade them do so. The two exchanged a look, but followed dutifully.

"What is it, Uncle?" Ezio ended up asking first.

"I wished to speak of what happened. My men mentioned they saw the Pazzi were all here tonight—something that has not happened for some time with Francesco busy in _Firenze_."

Ezio and Catherine exchanged another look before the young man replied.

"It seems the Pazzi answer to another: a Spaniard, by his tongue."

Mario visibly flinched, turning to face them. Catherine didn't bother to withhold her frown. It had to be serious if their commander was disturbed by the news.

The older man sighed as they rounded the ring, "He is Rodrigo Borgia, one of the most powerful men in all of Europe, and leader of the Templar Order."

Catherine paused. Borgia? She knew that name. She _knew_ she knew it, and not just because the man had looked familiar—as if from a dream. It was a name infamous in her time, and she swore there were some things about it. She still wasn't well versed and couldn't begin to tell anyone what they all did, but if their name was known to _her_ era, then this Rodrigo had to be terrible, or at least his family name.

Ezio's lip curled, "Then that makes him responsible for the murder of my father and brothers."

"Yes, and he will kill you, too, given the chance—you as well, Catherine. He will show no mercy because you are a woman; especially if you get in his way," Mario replied, glancing to them. The redhead's stomach churned uneasily at that. This Templar leader was a terrible man, and the thought that he had been the _true_ reason Giovanni and his sons had been killed made the fury within her rage. If she could, she would use the Clock to end him—but its power was not at her disposal. Not really. Still, she hoped and prayed his demise would lie in the path of the artifact's "purpose".

"Then I must stand against him if I wish to be free," Ezio spoke up again, causing Catherine's head to shoot up. Had she heard that right? But if he meant it then could he mean _that_ as well? Her heart raced as she waited on the needle's edge for him to continue. "…But not until every other Templar has fallen to my blade. Father's list will guide me."

Catherine felt her heart skipped a bit.

He hadn't said it out right, but Ezio was going to stay. Maybe it was just to kill vile Templars, but he was going to stay. He wasn't going to Spain. He was staying here, in _Monteriggioni_, with her—with _them_. She couldn't help the joy that filled her, but she did what she could and somehow managed not to smile or laugh aloud with delight as they came to the _Villa_'s entrance and passed beneath the arch.

"Where will you go next?" Mario asked, giving her yet more time to calm herself.

"_Firenze_. Francesco de' Pazzi will share the fate of his son," Ezio rumbled, eyes darkening.

His Uncle nodded, "A sensible next step. No doubt he intends evil for the city."

Catherine came forward then as they entered the main lobby, "Then all the better that I add my blade. Together, we can assure Francesco and his cohorts are stopped."

The young man paused, but then shook his head, "Catherine, no. I will not ask you to join me in this. It is my duty alone—they are my enemy."

"Which means they're my enemy, too. I'm not asking or volunteering—I'm _going_ to help you, whether you want it or not. If you forgot, we made a pretty damn good team last night, and we got to Vieri a lot faster and without a lot of injury because of it, so don't stand there and tell me I can't join you."

"Catherine," the young man rasped, frustration clear as he set his arms on his hips. "This is _not_ your fight. It is _mine_. They took away my family, and this is my heritage. Your place is here in this city, protecting it. You said so yourself."

Realization came quick, and she felt a small burn—an insult, "My place is where I damn please to put it, and if it wasn't clear to you, the 'Spaniard' plans to kill Mario. _That_ certainly makes it my business. Now, I'd rather us work together so it all goes better, but if I have to I will go after them _myself_."

"_Catherine_—"

"Ezio, enough," Mario spoke up suddenly, lifting his hand, and the young man was silenced. "Catherine has a point. Two blades will be better than one, and you are both yet beginners at this work. While you are, indeed, capable, Nephew, even your father could not stop these Templars and he had a life time of experience. Despite what you may think, you will need help, and I must remain here while Catherine has the freedom to move. Furthermore… you know there is no changing a woman's mind when it is made up. _This _I know you are aware of."

"Unfortunately, I do," the young man hummed, giving Catherine a look, but the redhead gave one right back; daring him to deny her. Not that it would do him any good. She meant what she said. She would help him whether he wanted it or not, and they would do more good working together than just letting him run off on his own.

"Then it is settled, and if you two are done squabbling over such foolish matters… then there is more I wish to discuss in my study. Come," his Uncle called, motioning for them to follow him through the hallway. They both nodded and kept in step behind him, although when Catherine glanced at Ezio, she saw him giving her an unhappy look, or she thought it was for her. Regardless, she knew he wasn't happy about her decision, which was confusing. He'd always been so supportive before—why not now?

It was a question for later, however, as the older man brought them into his study to stand at the pedestal situated before the wooden wall. She had seen it many times before, and so had Ezio. It had only been staring them in the face for quite some time, and they both knew the pictures and writing on it were part of the Codex pages. Thus, their curiosity was perhaps warranted.

"You recall these are the other Codex pages we spoke of?" the old man asked, to which they nodded. "These, in particular, are those your father managed to find and translate before he…"

"Here," Ezio interrupted after he pulled a scroll from the pocket of his gear—no doubt forgotten over the years, but still in good shape despite all its use. She had seen him read it every now and then, too, so it was not too surprising he had it. He had not told Mario it seemed, as the older man raised a brow as he pulled it open to read.

He frowned slightly as he moved to put it on the wall, "This is not your father's work. Someone else has translated it… how long have you had this?"

"Since coming here. I could not bring myself to part with it before and then became occupied… but to answer your questions: Leonardo da Vinci did the work. He is a friend."

"Then he is a friend of ours," Mario mused as he set the page and then stepped back, as if seeing something there.

Catherine, however, saw nothing—not substantial, anyways. They were just parchments of paper, although she knew they were connected, some seemingly physical. The older man had told her there was something special about them, though had never divulged as to what. He had told her the true message was lost without the rest, and that there was doubt anymore could be found. However, now that Ezio had provided more—perhaps there could be more still to find. Maybe. If they were to begin traveling they could simply find more.

"What is it?" she asked the older man, whom pointed to it.

"The words. Do you see how they cross from one page to the next?" he replied, and _that_ she did see. Ezio, though, stepped forward, pointing as his eyes narrowed. Briefly, she saw his eyes flash—he was using the Vision.

"There's something underneath it all. Some kind of map. But where is it supposed to lead?"

Mario smiled, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he turned to his nephew, "Your father and I managed to make out bits of a prophecy scrawled across these pages. It was written by an Assassin like us, who long ago held a 'Piece of Eden'. His name was Altair. He spoke of something powerful and ancient hidden beneath the land."

"Wait—a Piece of Eden… like mine?" Catherine asked, hand touching her pouch where the Clock was, and the older man nodded.

"Yes, though we do not yet know what his was. It granted him great knowledge, though, and with it he wrote these pages, we believe. Many mysteries still remain about them."

"Did this Piece of Eden tell you what this powerful _thing_ is?" Ezio pressed.

"Unfortunately, the pages we have here do not say, and solving that little mystery is exactly why we collected these pages."

Catherine felt her Clock grow warm—as if urging her to take notice. Was the power connected to it? It had to be, wasn't it? If that was the case, then she needed to help find those, too. Still, this was all so strange. So many more mysteries. She suddenly lamented having agreed—it was becoming all so complicated. However, she shoved the uncertainty aside. She _had_ to do this.

"Then let me help," Ezio replied, bringing up a firm fist. "It's time I take on my father's work. _All_ of it. I'll start with the page I took from Vieri. Leonardo will decode it for us."

"Good," Mario nodded, clapping his back. "Return here when time permits and we'll add it to the wall. Perhaps it will shed more light."

"And if _Vieri_ had one," Catherine mused, realizing the scroll she'd seen Ezio put into his vest was the one he was referring to, "then his father and other Templars might have them, too. With Ezio and me working together, we should be able to find them all, or at least enough to make sense of it all."

"It is certainly possible. The Assassins and Templars have always been intricately entwined in the matters of Pieces of Eden and the secrets they hold. If it possible they may know of this as well, or suspect it. Regardless, if the Templars possess Codex pages, we must reclaim them. Such power cannot belong in their hands—or any hands for that matter, if it proves too dangerous."

"Then all the more reason to get them, and all the better there's two of us to get them," the redhead nodded firmly, but she couldn't help noticing Ezio made that uneasy face again. She frowned slightly, but pushed her concern back. Was he being a worry-wart or something? And if so, why?

"Indeed, but you must rest and recover first. You fought bravely tonight, and you need to let your injuries heal. When you are ready, you can head to the city. For now, eat, drink, and celebrate as you wish—only rest at the end of it," Mario smiled, grasping her shoulder.

"Perhaps later. There are two people I must speak to first, lest one strike me in the morning for making her worry," Ezio chuckled, his earlier unease apparently wiped clean. Catherine wasn't fooled, but she just nodded and let him go. She had important things to speak of with Mario, after all, and so she grasped her Clock, which was cool again. She supposed she should have told Ezio, too, but she was worried, and she didn't need him worrying more. Not to mention he was acting weird. So, she let the young man venture out and waited until the older man had turned towards her, brow raised and silently asking what she would do before she pulled out the device. His other brow rose, too, and he stepped closer.

"It activated. The man—the god—appeared again."

Mario paused, the notion dawning on him, and his expression turned grave. He came closer, grasping her shoulders, eyes wrought with concern.

"You are certain!? How!? When!?"

She swallowed with some difficulty, "During the fight with Vieri. Ezio tripped and Vieri was about to kill him when the Clock suddenly grew warm and I was in that… that _other_ place. But it was different. It was… Jesus it was so weird, everything was just—"

Mario held his hand up, "No—do not tell me. It is better none know the intricate details. It will be safer."

"But… Mario it was… what I _did_ it… actually, it…. It was… _terrifying_. I'm not… I'm not sure how to describe it, but I… I cut through… I cut through _life_. I think. I'm not sure. But what I did… Jesus… what I did—_no one_ should have that power. But I did. I cut off Vieri's hands like it was _nothing_. I just cut through these tendrils—the light they were made of, and then they were just—gone. I cut them off. It was nothing. I did it so easily. I _shouldn't_ be able to do that, but I did. And… and if I hadn't… Ezio would have—but still… what I did..." she began to go on, eyes widening and heart racing as she realized the gravity of what she had done.

In her hands was the power of a god. _She_ had done what only a god should be able to, but _she_, a mere mortal, had done it. She had cut through the "threads" that made up this world and she had done it so easily. It wasn't right. Even the most responsible and reasonable person shouldn't carry or be able to use this power.

"Catherine."

The redhead's eyes shot up, having fallen to her hands and to the Clock in them, and found Mario staring at her seriously. She wasn't calmed all that much, but it helped.

"Be at ease, and find yourself. What did you mean about Ezio? What would have happened? What have you done?"

"I…. it was…" she started, but then stopped and breathed in deeply. Her shoulders sagged. "Vieri was about to kill Ezio, and the Clock activated. It… took me… out of time, I think, and it was… this weird place. I know you said not to tell you, but… everything was made of _light_. Except for me. The god guy was there—I still don't know who he is, but he told me to cut the light—the threads. He said it was the only way to make things right, so I… I took my sword, and I cut where Vieri's wrists were, and then I came back and—and his hands were cut off. A perfect, clean cut. I still don't get it, but the Clock… it's like… it's like I was able to alter… reality or—or _something_."

"You 'alter reality'?" the older man pressed, brows furrowed.

She shrugged, "I _think_? I'm still not sure. The god guy just said to 'cut the threads of the world' to make things right—then… oh my God, Mario! He said I could still go home—I can still go back to my time!"

"You—wait, Catherine slow down. What were you making right? And it is wonderful you still can return home, but how?"

"Sorry—sorry. I just—this is all so much," she laughed, the notion of it striking her hard and filled her with hope. As much as she loved it here, she now had a real chance to go home. She could do it, she knew she could.

"Trust me, I know. The Shroud I found was so overwhelming, and it still haunts me… now, explain it slowly to me and tell me exactly what happened this night," Mario spoke calmly, making sure she met his gaze. She paused only a moment before she nodded and did just as he asked: she told him everything. She told him of their fighting and what they heard and the fight with Vieri's guards and then the moment. She told him how she saw the god and all that she could remember of him saying. She told him of what she had seen and how it felt, and the new fear and hope she felt because of it. He listened quietly the entire time, never looking away, and always appearing as though his mind was reeling over it; finding everything there was to consider. When she had finished, he squeezed her shoulders before he released her and rubbed his chin in deep thought.

"This is… well, this is beyond my or anyone's knowledge, I would imagine. It is… this power…it is incredible… and dangerous. You are certain no one else can use it? No one could turn this against you?"

She recalled her conversation with the god before nodding, "Yes… the god guy said there were… um… things—mechanisms—put into the device to ensure it would only be used by me and that it will always come back to me no matter what. I think… I think that's why Giovanni was burned—he tried to take the Clock from me and not give it back. And then… I remember: a thief took it, but it didn't burn him, but I got it back moments later. Giovanni's ally had it, but it didn't burn him either—because he gave it back. It… the Clock just _knows_, I think, or _something_. It's... Jesus… what _is_ this thing?"

She looked at the Clock in her hand, her disbelief growing, and a fear of it forming. How could such a device be so _powerful_? It didn't make sense. It _shouldn't_ make sense or even exist at all! This was too much.

Shaking her head, Catherine pushed it towards Mario, "Take it—please. Put it someplace away from me. I don't want it. I shouldn't have this. Put it away like the one you found was! Someplace no one can find it!"

She kept her hand out there for the longest time, just waiting for the older man to take it. She begged silently for him to do so. Even if it was her only way home, this wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't the way she wanted to get home. This wasn't a power she wanted—to be able to just alter reality like it was _nothing_. It was too terrifying; too great a responsibility. She knew it was meant to make things "right" and she could use it to keep Ezio and everyone else safe, but it was too much.

"Catherine, I cannot—especially if what you said about taking it from you is true," Mario replied at last, touching her fingers, but only to curl them back over the artifact and keep them there. It felt like she'd been struck, and she bit her lip. He sighed, squeezing her hand. "This artifact was given to you for a reason. You were chosen to wield it and use its power, however great. I know it frightens you. It frightens _me_, but it seems there is a need for it, if what this 'god' of yours says is true. I do not want to believe so, but you used its power tonight, and I know you would not lie to me, so there is truth to all this."

"Then what am I supposed to do? You can't expect me to use this power again—it's not right for someone like me to use it," she sighed deeply, shoulders sagging.

"This is a power not meant for anyone—just as you say… but you must hold on to it. This was entrusted to you by a greater force for whatever reason. It may be you must use it again, and if you must… then do what is right with it. Use it for the good of all. This power is great, and so are the consequences of its use."

She bit her lip a bit more, hating the thought of having to use it, "Is there no other option?"

"None better that I can see… but do not lose heart, little one. You are strong. You will endure and make sense of all this, and one day you will return to your time. You will master this Piece of Eden unlike myself, so do not fear it. Only be mindful of it as you would your blade. You know its power, how to use it, and how it can cut your enemy, but you also know it can harm yourself. Only then can you master it and make it your own. You know this."

Catherine took a long while before she nodded, sighing yet again. She didn't fully believe him—not yet, but she knew he had a point. As much as she hated to believe it, she'd found the Clock and now it was hers to use and make things right. She still didn't really understand what that meant; what was meant to be right. It was related to Ezio, too, and the god had said she had to help the Brotherhood, which must have meant the young man now. So maybe she did need to keep it. Yet, the power still unnerved her. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, but she knew she would. It was inevitable, she realized, and so could only hope she could stay on the right path with it.

"Okay… I… um… should I tell… Ezio? I mean… he knows about it—that the Clock brought me here and about the god, but…"

Mario frowned in thought, "…No. Do not tell him—not yet. I know you do not wish to lie to him, but this… this is a secret that should be known only be you, and now myself. Truly this is something that should not be allowed to spread. It is good our enemy cannot use it, but if they learn that they may try to destroy you instead. Better none have this power if they cannot themselves."

"Yeah… I have to agree this time… I don't think I'll ever tell him… except… well, if he figures anything out I'll have to say _something_, but I won't mention it all."

"Indeed, my nephew can be rather clairvoyant… still, keep what you can hidden. Do not indulge the extent of the power to him or to anyone else, no matter how much more you trust them. You will only endanger them."

"I understand," the redhead nodded, fingers tightening around her Clock. She looked down at her hand briefly, and then returned it to her pocket. She sighed yet again, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Why can't things just stay simple? My Clock's back in action, the god said lots of mumbo-jumbo, and now the Templar business is more complicated, too. Do _all_ members of the Brotherhood deal with crap like this?"

Mario laughed lightly as he clapped her shoulder, "Unfortunately, no. You are perhaps the worst case, although maybe Altair would have had such trouble. Maybe you should write a Codex, too."

"Ha! Yeah, no thanks. I've already been writing letters to my mom. I think I'll just stick with those—just in case going home falls through. I mean, I don't think it will. I hope not. I hope this is real, but who knows how long it'll go on?"

"You will go home, I am sure of it… and if you do not, as I told you, this is your home until such time," the older man smiled, tilting her head up. She managed to smile back, and he pat her gently. "There we are… You know, we must really stop speaking of such dour things in our little talks. We are making a bad habit of this."

She chuckled, "Yeesh. We do, don't we? We'll have to find something fun to talk about it."

"Well, there are still celebrations to be had tonight, although they will go on until tomorrow night as well."

"To be honest… I'm ready to sleep instead. I might save my celebrating for tomorrow," Catherine laughed lightly, and sure enough, she felt her fatigue now that she recalled it. Her back was more sore than it had been before, and when at the Doctor' she'd found cuts and bruises she didn't remember having. She felt them now, though, and she wanted sleep above drink and food.

"Ah, then go on then. Relax as you need—you have earned it, little one. I, however, must see to my men and make sure things do not get out of hand. You know how rowdy they can get."

"Better get to it then, else they're gonna tear the town apart."

"Indeed," Mario huffed, shaking his head, but then embraced her for a moment. "You did very well tonight, Catherine. You are a true warrior now; well on your way to becoming a proper Assassin, and I am proud to have taught you."

With that, he left her there flushing with bright red cheeks. Her pride swelled, and suddenly she wasn't so tired and hurting. No, she felt quite light, and couldn't help grinning as she left the study not long after. Of course, it could only last so long, and she didn't really feel like joining the celebrations. Yet, she wasn't ready to sleep anymore. She had energy now, but she wanted to spend it in a more casual way. She considered spending time with Ezio instead, but she wasn't sure where he was beyond that he would be talking with Claudia or his mother. She imagined he might come find her later—they were a team, after all—and so went to a place she knew he would look: the roof.

With all the repairs to it, it was far more comfortable than it used to be, and there was quite the sight to see looking out upon the city. Many torches had been lit, and there were songs being sung and laughter rang throughout the night. The sky was beginning to clear, too, dissipating the earlier darkness that had once shielded them. The moon was practically gone, but the stars were like smaller lights that danced with them across the sky. She could see the drinks and barrels of wine and ale being brought out along with food, and people were overjoyed knowing their enemy was defeated and they were safe—for a time.

It would not last. Peace and victory never did; not when your enemy was still many strong and plotting. She and Ezio could only rest for so long before they would need to head out to _Firenze_ to stop these Templars and avenge his family. After almost two years they would finally go back there, and for her it was even longer. She might have only been there a month or two, but the thought of returning filled her with the kind of joy a homesick traveler got. There were just so many strong memories there, and then Ezio—well, she worried for him. If she thought her sorrow on the day of her leaving had been great, she knew his and his sister's and mother's was infinitely greater. She knew he was strong, but still she worried and swore she would be there for him as much as was needed. She supposed they were only so lucky they had an enemy to focus on and to keep them from being swept up in the tide of memories.

Then her Clock. She had a feeling it meant for her to go the city, too, although it wasn't warming up or giving any real direction just now. She was listening, though; she was keeping a hawk eye on it. She had too many more questions for it—for the god inside it—but the power was only meant to be used when the time was right. So the only way to get her answers was to ultimately use it. The notion made her wince, but what else could she do? She was, essentially, chained to it—almost literally. She hated it. Honestly, she did. She wished this fate hadn't been put upon her shoulders, and she still didn't want the power, but Mario was right. In the end, she would need to use it, and her goal would be to ensure she only ever used it for good. If she could do that, then maybe she could come to terms with having such power.

Maybe.

There was movement on the edge of the roof, pulling Catherine from her thoughts, and she hid her smile behind her palm set on her lifted knee as she watched Ezio haul himself over the edge—right on time. He was still in his Assassin garbs and he looked only a little tired, too. He flashed her a quick grin as he came over and plopped down beside her, leaning back on his arms as he propped a knee up.

"Not in the mood to join the festivities?" he inquired, shifting his other leg back and forth lazily.

She chuckled, "Nah. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I'm content to watch—waiting for the sunrise, actually."

"Mind if I join you then?"

"Please, you would even if I told you 'no'. You'd just be obnoxious about it and sit out of hitting range so you still got your way but insist I was getting mine, too," she chirped back, and he grinned impishly.

"You know me so well."

"I better after like two years," Catherine snorted, mock-huffing. They both ended up chuckling before settling into a silence. Together they watched the city a little more, enjoying the sight of the city and its people. It was heart-warming to see them so happy, and so it was a shame they would only be able to share in it for a little while. That would be enough, though, she was sure. At least, she thought so.

"Catherine," Ezio suddenly spoke, and she looked over. His face had lost its cheerfulness, and now there was a somber veil over it. "What happened back at _San Gimignano_? With Vieri? Something happened—he was about to kill me, and then… you were _there_, and his hands were gone. What happened?"

_'Shit.'_

The redhead could not hide her uneasy shift as she looked away. She knew Ezio wouldn't drop it, so she was going to have to tell him something—but not everything. Mario had said not to, and this time she was sure she needed to keep this secret. This one, without doubt, was too dangerous to be widely known even by him. Yet, he wouldn't believe her if she said she had run or it was luck. She had to tell him some of the truth.

"It, um… it was the Clock. It activated."

He sat up, eyes wide, "It what?"

"It activated. It stalled time enough for me to get to you and cut off Vieri's hands," she told him, and was glad to say that was true. She glanced over at the young man and saw his eyes wide, hand on his chin in thought. It reminded her of how Mario looked, and vaguely she noted they were actually rather similar.

"So… this… this means…"

"Um… it means a lot, but… it means… I can go home still, for one… and that… I'm still supposed to help the Brotherhood. Only… it's _you_."

His head shot up then, brows furrowing. His lips creased into a frown as he thought, and she didn't like how his expression continued to change unfavorably as the seconds passed. He pursed his lip as he gathered his thoughts.

"So… you were sent here… to help _me_? Was all this—was everything meant to happen? I was meant to do all this? To go through all this?" he asked, his voice edged.

She swallowed slowly as she readied her lie, "I… I'm not sure. The god person just said I had to help and I was sent to do so. He didn't explain much at all. And I still don't know why it didn't activate until now—I guess maybe because your life hadn't been in danger…"

"I see," Ezio rumbled, but it was obvious he wasn't satisfied. No, if anything he seemed infuriated. He wanted answers. She knew the feeling all too well. "So… is this why you wish to come with me? If this why you are so adamant to help?"

"I—wait… what?"

"That 'god' of yours said you could go home if you helped. This is why you're being so stubborn about coming, yes?" he asked, and she felt a sting in her chest. The way he made it sound so accusing—it hurt. She didn't doubt it was unintentional, and that he was just mad she was putting herself in danger that he felt was his own, but still; it stung.

"It's part of the reason, yes," she began, holding up her hand to keep him from going on. "But I'm not just helping because some jackass god told me, too, or that he's using me going home as incentive. Why don't you want me to, though? We were a great team tonight—do you think we won't be in _Firenze_? And there are so many more Templars than you. If there are two of us then it will be easier. You don't have to do it on your own. You don't have to prove anything or take your father's work on your own or—"

"That not it," the young man said suddenly, looking away. She paused, settling down, and waited for him to do the same. After a few moments, he sighed. "Do you know why I came to _San Gimignano_?"

Catherine shook her head for an answer when he looked over at her. He breathed out deeply as he reached in to his vest and pulled out a parchment on top of which was his family crest. Her eyes widened. It was _her_ letter. She had only supposed he'd read it, but now she knew.

"Your words… they stirred something within me. It made me think: _would_ my father be proud of me? Would he be proud that I had run rather than face Vieri, whom was causing such trouble for my family? Would he have been proud of me if I threw everything away? To know he had done such good and he meant for me to become as great as he was, but then throw it away? I thought of how you wanted to return the crest to me because you thought I was a good man, but…" he began, taking the necklace and then her hand to put the crest into her palm. "But I cannot believe that yet. The crest still belongs to you—I do not deserve it yet. I still need to become a good man, and I realized I could only do so by doing good. knew I needed to start taking responsibility, and once I heard the Templars talk, I knew it even more. I knew I needed to become what my father dreamed of me. I needed to help those who cannot help themselves and protect them, and I needed to start with ending Vieri. And knowing _you _were there, putting yourself in the line of danger when it should be me… I had to go and make things right."

Catherine looked down at the crest, but didn't give it back yet as she replied, "…But… what does that have to do with not wanting me to go?"

"Because—!" he growled, throwing up his arm, but then sighed deeply and lowered it back down. "Because… it is not your responsibility. This fight is not yours, yet you still throw yourself into it. And… and I cannot bear to see the people I care for hurt. I have lost too many—to lose another…"

Catherine's eyes fell, her cheeks growing warm. So that was it. He was afraid to lose her—to lose anyone he held close. She knew the feeling. She'd feared losing him all this time, and he was just leaving for Spain, but _he_ could have lost her at any time last night. Then again, the same could have happened to her with him, but they had survived. Still, she understood, but she couldn't bring herself to not go. She wanted to be by his side when stopping these Templars. She wanted to help him, and not just because she'd been told to. She cared about him, too; she couldn't bear to see him die.

"I… I know how you feel… but… I'm going to help you. Even if you hate me for it, I'm going to go with you to the city and help," she replied after a while, looking back out to the city. She heard him shift and a quick glance told her he didn't hate her for it, but he was upset. He might have even hated himself for being unable to stop her.

"Catherine, this _won't_ be the same. It will be more dangerous."

"Last night was plenty dangerous."

"We had Mario to back us up—in the city we will be on our own."

"Which is why I need to go with you. You need help, and I'm going to give it."

"Dammit, Catherine—why?! Why do you have to? Why can't you just stay here and stay safe?"

The redhead opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. She looked down with the shake of her head, sighing. He didn't get it. He really didn't it. Or maybe he did, but didn't want to accept it. Or maybe he didn't believe in her. She didn't know. It could be all of them.

She turned her gaze to the horizon, where the bright, flickering edges of the sun were starting to emerge. She stood then, eyes flicking back to him then to the city once more.

"Because you're an idiot," she mumbled softly, moving to go, but his hand lunged out and grabbed hers. She jerked slightly, having not expected it, and she turned to find him looking at her seriously; pain clear in his eyes as he silently begged for an answer. Even after all this time he was struggling with loss. He truly feared losing more, and her heart tugged for him. She knew the agony well, which was why she had to help, but in the end, she couldn't bring herself to tell him that. She just had a feeling that wouldn't reach him.

"Ezio, do you trust me?" she asked softly, and it made him flinch. His grip lessened, and he almost looked numb as he nodded.

"Yes."

She smiled as she squeezed his hand, pushing his family's crest into his, "Then trust me."

With that, she turned away toward the southern sun, and slipped over the edge, leaving Ezio to gaze down at the pedant in his hand and ponder.

* * *

**30** _– End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_So, just so it's clear-Catherine gives Ezio his family necklace-the one he gave her before she left Florence-back to him; to show he _is _a good man. Kinda. In her own way. Anyways, just wanted to make that clear~ Also, Ezio is a big worry-wart, but for his own reasons, but Catherine is determined to help-and not just because it's her way home! Nope, she has other reasons, too, and she's too stubborn to listen to the likes of Ser Auditore here. _

_Right. So. Like 'Cat said, the Clock can alter reality and is an informational hub and such. She has no control, though, so that's an issue. The "god" is still a mystery, and there are still plenty of questions, but they'll be answered in time. Or should be. Pretty positive they all get answered, anyways, haha._

_Sooo... next chapter we'll keep the game story line moving along with some other feels. So, yeah. Still much to come! Stay tuned everyone! :)_


	32. One Week

**TMWolf: **_And it's update time, guys, yaaaaaaay! So. Fun stuff and feels last chapter. This one... we got a few feels-not a whole lot, but we're getting the ball rolling and Francesco's death is coming up! Right. So. Not much news, which means I'll mosey on._

_Review-wise... Good grief so many this last chapter, thank-you soooo muuuch! I seriously love reading your thoughts and comments! I'm so glad you're all loving this! :'D_

**_AvengersFan_**_: Well you're in for some luck-I'm updating the same week you reviewed! xD I update every other week so just be a little patient! :'D_

**CCanary107: **_Sorry for the wait, but the next chapter is up now! I update every other week :) _

**_Laurel:_**_ Hee hee, that's basically what I hope for them xD And of course she is! :') She wants to keep the people she loves safe and will do whatever it takes! That, and going home, too!_

**_Lola: _**_Ohohoh just you wait xD_

**_MyrenBritanika:_**_ Thank-you soooooooooooo much! I really appreciate it! Unfortunately, this one wiiilll end... but not anytime soon, so don't worry! xD_

_Again, seriously, thank-you soooo much for your thoughts and comments! I'm always happy to answer your questions or respond to stuff so don't be afraid to ask! :)_

_This chapter's song is to be fun and comes from Barenaked Ladies - One Week. The title was just perfect despite nothing with the lyrics matching ha ha xD_

_Anyways, time for "filler" but important stuff for this chapter! Enjoy! :'D_

* * *

**31 **_– One Week_

* * *

**April 22, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

The week after Vieri's death passed by quickly, jumbled up in the hours of celebration, recovery, and preparations. There was a thick blanket of frivolity about the city for those that could, although even those who were stuck in the make-shift hospital took part as they could. Yet, there was not all cheer: in the following days they lost three men to their injuries, and some would never fight again. It was a tough time, but the city and their brothers and sisters were there to keep them going, and the people were able to keep their cheer. There was plenty of time for peace for them, after all.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for four particular people. While others cheered, drank, ate, danced, sang, and had a fun time, Catherine, Ezio, Mario, and Claudia prepared. The latter worked to keep the city intact and ensure that the hospital was well supplied. Furthermore, some more repairs were coming that would finally finish off the brothel. The Barracks would be renovated soon, too, and shops and homes would have secondary improvements, which would increase their revenue. Already more people were visiting, and their profits were doing far better than before. It showed in the state of the city, and in how pleased Claudia was. She still always kept a sharp retort or slap on the wrist handy, though—just in case, and especially for the Commander's Captain.

Mario was busy ensuring the city was kept strong and sending some of his men to _San Gimignano _to help keep it safe and ensure the bodies of their men be treated well. Over the week news came every day by pigeon, and it seemed the area _was_ calming down, but it would still be a long while before it was truly peaceful. It was also highly likely the Pazzi would return to reclaim it, remising their work. The older man mentioned it would probably take the end of the Pazzi for true peace there, but for now the family and their allies had retreated out of the city for their plans, allowing the Auditore and _Monteriggioni_ to begin setting up a presence there. It was but small, but it could be much stronger and the land could become an even stronger ally, he was certain. First, though, the Pazzi and their allies would have to be taken care of.

For that, Catherine and Ezio's celebration ended early, and as soon as their bodies' aching lessened, they were training yet again. They could not afford rest while the enemy remained on the move. They didn't know when the Pazzi would do whatever it was they were after, so they recovered as quickly as they could and trained as hard as their bodies would allow. Their experience from the battle of _San GimignanoI _was impeccable and served as a good place to increase their efforts. They now knew what it was to really fight and kill men, and so they incorporated it as best as they could. Catherine was able to do so with an extra lightness—the death of Emilio had eased something within her, and her mind felt all the more clear. She had spoken of it to Mario—of how she felt no regret, and although he had told her to show respect for the dead as he had told his nephew, he did not blame her. He warned her not to become Emilio as well, however. She assured him there was no chance of that, but the notion remained: stay the better man—or rather woman.

It was one of many lessons they kept in mind as they trained, and although it wasn't enough time to really learn anything new, they did ensure their skills were kept warm and fresh. It also gave time to enhance their gear as best as the blacksmith could make it, and each were given sturdier leather armor for their journey, along with better pouches for their medicine—which the Doctor was happy to provide—and their coin. Dea, along with her new seamstress and helpers, were equally happy to mend, wash, and adjust their clothes as need be. Catherine's hood was attached proper, and it was fun playing around with it; pulling it off and on—much to Ezio's bemusement. The young man, meanwhile, was given a full-repair for his, the young man foolishly forgetting to do so the whole time he had trained. Dea worked magic, though, and his outfit was pristine by the time they were done and well before it was time to leave.

Beyond their work, the city was, overall, a much happier place, and there was a great sense of ease. There were no more reports of men in the woods of the surrounding area, and bandits had been long gone before then, so there was a great deal of peace in _Monteriggioni_. The city prospered, and so Catherine and Ezio were able to depart a week later without worry weighing down their shoulders—at least for their home and the people they had here. So they said their good-byes the morning of their departure. Both hugged Claudia and promised to return safely. Ezio embraced his mother and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek—something that brought a small smile the woman's face. Catherine wanted to embrace her as well, but refrained for now. She didn't quite have the courage to approach her yet, but she would. Soon. Maybe.

For the rest, the men were the ones to clap, laugh, whoop, and tell them to bring back "souvenirs" from their journey to the city—and to bring back women. Catherine promised to bring men back instead, but Ezio reassured their worries by saying he would slip in some women, too. From there, they said their farewells to Ghita and the Doctor, whom provided the last of their supplies in satchels. They had plans for a place to stay, and the journey would be perhaps half the day, but the head maid and medical man refused to let them go unprepared. Besides, no one knew how long they would be, or if the place they would stay would be any good. Ezio was certain it would be—with an odd smile that made Catherine a little suspicious, but she relented—but they were given the items all the same.

With that, very little remained beyond the travel. It would take a full day, so they planned to head out early in the morning. The night before Mario spoke with them privately; giving them instructions. He had men in the city that would be at their disposal to use, and to also send him pigeons to keep him updated—and ensure they were alright. They promised they would, and if they had need of the mercenaries they were to find a "Piero"—he was head of the men there, and would help so long as they mentioned their commander's name. Beyond that, Ezio's Uncle urged them to be cautious and not draw attention to themselves; even if nearly two years had gone by since their leaving, they could very well be wanted, and even if not they still had to be cautious. If his father, whom had been close to Lorenzo de' Medici, had been killed despite his connections, then they could not afford any levity. They would need to keep their heads low, hoods up, and not draw attention as they learned what their enemy was up to. For this, Mario urged to seek "allies". Catherine briefly recalled Giovanni mentioning one, though could not bring the image to mind properly, but Ezio assured his Uncle they had one.

Thus, with their Uncle's blessing, another reminder to be the better man and show respect to even their enemies, it was time to leave. The stableman gave their best horses, well-rested, fed, and ready to go. They bid their final farewells, and then they were off.

It was almost a full day's ride to the city, so they had a while to go even with the horses ready to take the entire way at a fast pace. They rested them after a few hours, though—if only to do their own business as well—and used the time to discuss their plans. Ezio, unfortunately for Catherine, proved to be unusually aloof about this "ally" of his, which told her it wasn't Leonard. She was incredibly excited to see him, though, but the way her companion smirked almost cheekily made her worry. However, no matter the prodding he kept silent, and so she could only huff and glare and pout at him as they kept going.

Thankfully for Catherine, the hours and miles passed quickly, and they moved through town after town, always coming closer to _Firenze_. Of course, that also made her anxiety grow, and all sorts of doubts and worries nurtured in her mind. They didn't have any idea where their enemy was, and what if they were _everywhere_? What if all the guards would be out for their heads? Moving would be infinitely more difficult. And what if their ally wasn't good enough? What if Leonardo was gone? What if, what if, what if, what if? There was so much, and the worry hit her the worst as they reached the last few miles between them and the city where they'd stop to rest near a small farming town.

The redhead sighed as she ran a hand along the back of her neck. Her horse whickered beside her, shifting this way and that as they waited. Ezio was off gleaning information about the city while she kept the horses steady and watered. They'd cantered quite a bit of the previous stretch, so there was a good sweat on the stallions' coats despite the weather not being all that hot. Indeed, it was pleasantly cool, but that didn't ease her tension. Ezio didn't seem nearly as bad, but she imagined it was a façade. Despite their understanding from a week ago—and after more talking a few days ago—he still seemed uneasy about her coming along. She didn't entirely blame him, but this was her decision and she was sticking to it. He thankfully had come to accept _that_ even if he didn't like it.

_'Even if I didn't have a choice, I'd still come,' _she mused, glancing down at her pocket where she kept her newly awakened Clock. It hadn't really activated since the fight against Vieri, but occasionally she swore it grew warm once or twice in the past week. She figured it meat it really was going to keep working or it planned to, but the god hadn't come back to say this wasn't the way, so she could only assume it was right. It had told her to stick with Ezio—help the "Brotherhood"—so there was that, too. Although, technically neither of them were _really_ Assassins, she supposed; they hadn't been inducted into the Order or anything, but there wasn't exactly a proper Order around, so she supposed they would just have to "pretend". They were doing Assassin work, anyways, so that probably counted. Probably.

"You alright?" an all too familiar voice inquired and Catherine looked up to find Ezio standing there with one hand extended, a piece of bread in hand, and the other at his mouth, also a piece of bread in hand. His he promptly bit into it, and then his other hand was set on his hip when she took the bread and nibbled at it.

"Yeah. Just thinking," she replied, and then motioned with her head towards the building he'd just come from. It looked like an inn of sorts, but much smaller. "What did you find out?"

Ezio frowned a little as he sat down beside her, "Not much, but some is bad and some is good."

"Start with the good, I guess."

"Well… it seems I and my family are no longer wanted in the city, so we should be able to move about freely. Or, well, you always could, but now _I _can. So that will be useful. Leonardo will, at the very least, not be in danger."

"So he's still living there?" she inquired, perking up.

Ezio chuckled with a nod, "Yes, more good news: he's still there paining and doing architecture. He will be incredibly surprised and happy to see us, I imagine—most of all you."

"I'm going to be friggin' happy, too," she laughed with him, scarfing down another bite of the bread. "So what's the bad news?"

"There is must political unrest in the city. I don't doubt it's probably always been there, but it seems there is a power play going on. Not everyone is sure of things, but the people have noticed more strange guards in red in the city patrolling rather than the usual orange supplied by the Medici—the ruler of _Firenze_."

"Pazzi guards. Probably staging a coup or something—why else replace the guards with their own?" Catherine frowned before she finished the last bites of her bread.

Ezio nodded, setting his elbows on his knees and pressing his chin into his interlaced fingers, "I don't doubt it, but that can't be the only thing they're after. Or they can't at least be acting alone. We need to find out what they're up to."

"Sounds like a plan—but we need to scout the area again to find out where all the guards are and figure out the safest routes. That, and we should probably see what those Codex pages say, which means visiting Leo," the redhead nodded, not bothering to hide her grin. Her companion noticed and chuckled.

"Indeed, scouting would be useful, but just know we can't spend forever at Leonardo's—we have a mission."

She rolled her eyes, waving off his jest, "Please. If anyone is going to waste time and get side-tracked is _you_. Although I admit I do plan to visit Leo as much as I can. I mean, we can only stay so long before we start getting into serious trouble, and if we do end up killing all the Pazzi and their helpers here, we'll no doubt be wanted in all of _Firenze_. Staying would be… bad."

"Unfortunately you're right. As much as I hate to admit it, we cannot stay here forever once we finish what it is we came to do," Ezio frowned, and she knew his heart longed to return home—to _really_ return home, but it could maybe never happen. She knew the feeling. Even with her Clock working again, who knew if it would actually take her home once it was all said and done? The god could have very well been lying.

"Well, I'm ready to go when you are… but, okay, seriously—_who_ is our ally you keep saying will give us a place to stay? We're not going to be sleeping in a barn or shack or in the woods are we?" she inquired, brow raised almost accusingly. Of course, as he had the last few times, the young man just grinned like an imp, stood up, snatched back his reigns, and mounted.

"You will see when we get there. I only promise you that you _will_ sleep in a bed!"

"Which means I'm going to hate something about it a lot," Catherine mused, eyes narrowed, but Ezio kept quiet. As usual, she relented with a sigh as she stood, brushing herself off, and mounted up. "Well, let's get on with it then—we've got maybe another hour of riding and we should be there, which gets us into the city before dark. Should make us a little less suspicious. Maybe."

"The people here said the gates aren't all that heavily guarded, so it should be fine… but we'll be cautious all the same," he chuckled, adding the final part when he noticed the "look" she gave him. She promptly replied with an "uh-huh", making him laugh some more. "Anyways, let's head off. I sent word ahead to our ally, so they know we're coming, but we shouldn't keep them waiting."

"You shouldn't keep me in the dark, either!" she shouted after him, but he urged his horse into a canter, briefly leaving her behind. Her horse went after out of instinct as she sighed, shaking her head. Really, he could be such a dork sometimes. Just what was he planning?

There was no helping it, though, and she caught up soon enough. Their talk settled into the usual: potential plans for what they would do and what could happen. They made back up plans and back up plans for the back up plans. They re-checked their gear and supplies and made sure to remember to send Mario a pigeon as soon as they could. They also needed to make contact with the mercenaries there, as they were fairly certain they would need them now. If the Pazzi guards were rife throughout the city, they would require the help. Frankly, Catherine just hoped it wouldn't be as bad as they feared. It would be infinitely easier if they knew the enemy's plans or at least _when_ they would happen—especially when the city was so large—but they would just have to make do. At least with two of them it would make it easier to cover more ground.

Thus, the two went on discussing such things, and only settled as the trees and woods began to ebb and the roads were more well-kept and worn. Soon enough, the clearing was wide enough to see the city walls, and their journey was at an end. As they'd guessed, the sun was close to the horizon line, so the sky was lit in reds, purples, and blues, and a few star were starting to twinkle while the moon just barely emerged on the other side. Ezio had been right about the gates, too; they were devoid of any guards, although some were further in. However, it would be no trouble for them, and so they brought their horses over to the main stable. It was easy enough to pay for a week's worth of care—with any luck they wouldn't need to be here that long—and then they entered into the city.

They did so carefully at first, eyes minding their surroundings, though not in a conspicuous way. They made sure to avoid where areas were thick with red even if it made the journey longer. They kept to small crowds to blend in, although Catherine grimly noted she was getting more looks than she should have or would have liked. She had spent far too long in _Monteriggioni_—she'd forgotten how unusual it was to have a woman in such clothing as hers. Back home it was practically normal for everyone, but here she stood out some. She detested the thought of having to wear a dress, but perhaps a cloak to cover her chest and torso might do her some good. For now, though, she would have to make do and just walk as if she belonged. Should a guard notice, she would just divert and go another way, but until then she kept just a few steps behind Ezio as he led them to wherever it was.

"Sooo how much longer? I kinda wouldn't mind having that bed to sleep in," she huffed as they went through yet another alleyway.

Ezio's grin—the one he'd had since coming here—got wider, "Almost. Just hold on."

"Eziooooooo," she huffed, grabbing his cape to tug on it. The young man just laughed, though, pulling her along. She released the black fabric and continued to follow, ignoring any glances, and instead looked around at the city. It had been about two years since she'd left, and the architecture hadn't changed in the slightest. It was still so amazing and beautiful, and she longed to run and leap across the roofs. Unfortunately, it would be a lot harder with the increased number of guards up top. She hadn't failed to notice their moving up above, and lamented how some of them might have to die over the coming days. Their masters she knew deserved death, but the followers didn't always—sometimes they didn't even know or they had no choice. Some did, though, and they deserved death, too, but she and Ezio couldn't know; they couldn't afford to, so knew she would lament it all the same.

"Oof!" the redhead grunted when Ezio suddenly stopped and she bumped into him. He turned, raising a brow, and she huffed. "What?"

"We're here," he smirked, gesturing to the building ahead. She looked up, and raised a brow.

It was a very lavish and perhaps the most beautiful in terms of the decorations. It wasn't nearly as grand or amazing as some of the other larger buildings, but the many flowers and red sashes and flora all around gave it a very lovely look. She also caught the scent of lavender and other sweet smells that were all too enticing when the rest of the city didn't smell nearly as pleasant. The sign above called it _The Plucked Rose_, and the red certainly matched that. It was a tall building, too, with three stories, and a balcony on the second. On the very top looked like a tower, a style similar to the _Villa_ back home. She couldn't see why Ezio was smirking about this place, though. He only did it when he was being a troublemaker, but what could be trouble about such a lovely place?

She almost had her mouth open to ask when the door opened and a man, drunk and laughing stupidly with his clothes disheveled, came stumbling out. Behind him was a scantily clad woman, her top being held up her by one hand while the other waved him on and blew a kiss.

"Come again soon, my love!" she giggled before her eyes flashed to Ezio with an enticing smile, and then she was gone back inside.

Catherine paused.

For a moment.

Then she looked at Ezio, her face set in such a way her lips were in a thin line, and she stared straight at him blankly. He stared right back, his mischievous grin becoming all the more mischievous with the passing seconds.

"No."

His grin widened, "What?"

"No_._"

"It is quite nice inside—"

"No."

"I have stayed here before—"

"No."

"The beds are nice—"

"_No._"

Ezio finally couldn't help himself and ended up laughing—hard. Enough so he looked as if he couldn't breathe. Catherine, however, continued to give him her stare, essentially in disbelief. He had to be joking after all. Really—he had to.

"Catherine," he began, grasping both her shoulders, still grinning, "this is where my ally makes her home."

"It's a _brothel_. You want me to stay in a _brothel_. You do realize what goes on in a _brothel_?"

"I am well aware," he winked, and then laughed when she smacked his stomach. "But I am honest when I say my ally is here! She helped me and my family when we needed sanctuary and she taught me to survive. This will be a safe place for us—perhaps the safest. I know you do not particularly _agree_ with what they do, but it is a place to stay with comfortable beds and kind people. She will ensure we are safe while we do our work here."

"But—it's a _brothel_," she grumbled, glaring at the place. It looked so nice on the outside, but on the inside it couldn't be all that great, could it? She didn't exactly think brothels were the healthiest of places.

"Catherine, it will be fine. Trust me, alright? You trust me, don't you?" he smiled warmly. Her eyes widened briefly, but then she glared and huffed.

"You jerk. Using that against me," she pouted, making a face. Ezio only put his grin right back on his face and took her chin gently.

"I promise it won't be bad."

She believed him—or at least hoped he would be right. He probably would be. It was probably a nice place, but the only way to find out was to go there, so she freed her chin from his grasp and waved at the door. He nodded and headed to it, with the redhead right behind. She was still anxious, but she supposed he had a point. No guard would check a brothel for them, and even if they did there would be beautiful, scantily clad women to distract them. Sound strategy—right?

Knowing Ezio, that was probably the _last_ reason why, but this was their only ally at the moment, and brothels probably had decent beds—especially with how nice this one looked. She could use a nice bed, and so she relented and let him knock on the pristine wood. A courtesan answered with all her giggles and cooing, but once a "Paola" was mentioned, she grew more serious—and curious—and beckoned them in. Brows were raised Catherine's way—she must have been wearing too _much _clothing—but she ignored them as the woman led them through the main area, which was already a bit cluttered with many ladies and a few "customers". Needless to say the redhead was glad to be taken to a back room where there were no other ladies or the men they'd be pleasuring for their coin. Even more needless to say was how pleased Ezio looked, and how the glanced he gave the woman who led them couldn't have been more inviting. He, of course, played innocent when he looked at Catherine and found an accusing set of eyes aimed at him.

"What?" he hummed, leaning back in his chair.

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Oh, nothing. Just remember we're here to _work_."

"Oh, but one must always make time for _leisure_," he purred, his teasing so obvious it was almost painful. Still, it made her flush some and her anger spark slightly.

"Just call it _pleasure_, you ass. You didn't just bring us here because it would be _safe_," she snapped a little, shoving her mouth and chin into her palm, elbow set onto the arm of her chair.

He smirked, brow raised, "Always so jealous… I'm always happy to include you in my leisurely activities, you know."

"And I'm always happy to kick you in the balls. You can do your activities by yourself," she barked, glare intensifying, but he knew it was more of a huff than a sincere comment. He did know she felt about him running around and engaging in his "activities", too, and so it almost seemed like he thought it a game. Why wouldn't he, though? It wasn't like they were anything—not even courting rightly. It was silly of her to get mad. He didn't even know she liked him in some way. It was just a crush, anyways. It was nothing to get upset over. He was a grown, young man. He could make his own decisions, and if he wanted to fuck around—literally—than he could. It was none of her business. There was no need to get angry or upset.

"Oh my God—Ezio! And—no! It cannot be! Catherine!" a woman's voice—one they both knew very well—rang out. A quick turn of the head revealed a face they hadn't seen in a long time: Annetta. She was dressed in much better clothes than the redhead remembered, although she still looked a maid of sorts, but that hardly mattered as she came rushing over to embrace the young man she had cared for most all of his life. Ezio was equally surprised, but happy to return the hug, laughing with her. The redhead would find herself pulled into the merriment soon enough, but she had enough time to look towards the door where another woman had followed in behind Annetta and shut the door.

She was beautiful—almost unimaginably so. Her face was pristine, and only a little pale. Her hair, dark, and spilling from the tip of her forehead on both sides, and a little at her shoulders before it was tucked back into her veil. Her eyes were equally dark, but with a wisdom Catherine had not expected to find. The rest of her was equally magnificent; her crimson dress adorned with elegant gold shapes cascaded down from her shoulders to her feet, trailing behind her some. It was rather complimentary of her chest as well, giving her a greater sense of endowment that made the redhead realize this had to be the leader here—like the one that had run the brothel once in _Monteriggioni_ before it went into disarray. Unlike her ladies, she did not partake in the activities, but she ensured everyone—client or her employees—were well taken care of. However, Catherine had a feeling _this_ particular matriarch did a great deal more.

"Oh, Lady Catherine, look at you! You are so different, yet still the same!" Annetta laughed as she suddenly took the redhead's hands and then hugged her. Catherine returned it, of course, grinning brightly.

"And the same for you! It's been so long, Annetta. I missed you! What on Earth are you doing here, though?" she inquired with a grin.

"Well, I live here—and help keep it clean."

"I could not allow my dear sister to be without a home, now could I?" the other woman smiled pleasantly, laughter in her eyes. Catherine still wasn't entirely sure what to make of her, but Ezio approached her calmly and embraced her. The woman looked him over for a moment before cupping the sides of his face. "You have grown strong, Ezio. It is good to see you again."

"As it is to see you, Paola. Forgive me for not contacting sooner—my Uncle kept me rather… occupied."

"So you've been in _Monteriggioni_ all this time?" Annetta questioned, to which the redhead nodded.

"Yep. We've been training ever since he got there—and me since I left, too."

"And you have been busy as well, no?" Paola mused, brow raised knowingly. Catherine knew at once Ezio had mentioned the business with Vieri, which meant he definitely trusted this woman. And if he did, then she could probably do the same. Furthermore, she was apparently Annetta's sister—that had to count for something.

"Indeed, and we will be busy still," the young man rumbled, again causing the woman's brow to raise. "As I told you, we will need shelter—a place to stay out of the sight of the enemy while we are here. We do not know how long—"

"My home is yours, as it was before. I am more than willing to provide my aid, and my girls are at your disposal, too. Annetta, would you be willing to do as you did once before?"

The maid's face grew firm and nodded, "Yes. I served his father—I will serve him as well."

"Annetta—no, you don't need to. We couldn't put you in that danger," Catherine spoke up, grasping the woman's arm gently. The maid simply smiled confidently, touching her hand and squeezing it.

"I am well aware of what it entails. I served Giovanni far longer than you have done this work. You need not worry about me."

"Indeed. My sister will prove most beneficial… and I believe she misses the sense of excitement from secrecy," Paola mused with a wry smile, to which her sister huffed and pouted at. The woman merely chuckled and looked to Ezio again. "So it seems that is settled… but there is still much to discuss—such as your plans, and who your lovely companion is."

Ezio chuckled back, bowing his head, "Indeed, and it seems we are in just the right place."

"Certainly. This room is unknown to even the guard. We will be safe here, and if you require nourishment, food and drink can be provided," Paola nodded, motioning to a table with two elegant sofas on either side of it.

"We aren't yet hungry, but perhaps later," the young man smiled, glancing at Catherine to make sure, whom nodded, and then back to the matriarch. "So shall we begin? There's much to tell."

"Indeed; let us begin," the woman just smiled and they followed her over.

**-O-**

**April 23, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine sighed as she sat up from her bed, freshly woken by Annetta. The woman already brought a meal for her, and assured her she didn't need to get going too quickly—Ezio was still asleep. The notion struck her as odd, but then she recalled the prior night's events. Not only had they explained everything that had happened since Ezio left the city and introduced Catherine—as an Assassin originally from England and so forth—but dinner and food had been brought. Discussion went into their plans, but then it started to stagger off towards a tangent. The wine didn't help, although it was a great deal of fun to catch up with Annetta and learn that she had stayed with her sister ever since the death of the Auditore's patriarch and sons, and worked as a maid of sorts. However, there was not much beyond that to discuss, and it had gotten late, so Paola urged them to take rooms for themselves, promising they were "clean" and would be to their liking. Catherine doubted it, but she'd had just enough wine to not let it bother her, and she was tired, too. They would need to wake up to get going, so she opted to head to bed. Ezio, on the other hand, was still full of energy, and it hadn't escaped her notice that he seemed keen on "fun". Of course, Paola had an "outlet" for him, and despite telling herself it was none of her business or anything to care about, she went to bed fuming at the sight of the young man with a woman on his arm as she led him to a room—free of charge.

And now here she was, rubbing at her head, which was actually doing alright, much to her delight. However, the thought, and the recalling of certain sound during the night because the walls weren't as thick as they should have been gave her a bit of a headache anyways. Nothing to do for it, though, and she shook it from her head as she got up to stretch a bit lazily. Rubbing the back of her neck, she spotted her clothes folded neatly. Blinking, she looked over at Annetta, whom was already working around the room.

"Hey—hey, c'mon, I told you before I don't need you to do all this for me," she hummed, coming over to her. The woman spun around, hand on her hips, and with the same stern look from before on her face.

"And I will have to politely you ask to hush and allow me to tend to you during your stay here. I am happy to do so while you have more important things to deal with. Now, hurry and dress—there is food in the room from before. I will have Ezio join you shortly."

Catherine sighed at first, but then snorted at the mention of the young man, "Please. He's probably too 'spent' to get his ass up."

"Yes, he was rather… _busy_ last night," Annetta chuckled, an almost sly smile sent the redhead's way, whom flushed. What was _that_ about?

"Yeah, well tell him not to be late. I'm leaving in an hour to see Leo whether he's with me or not," she huffed, slipping off the night shirt she'd brought with her and pulled on her normal one. She had given up her bra long ago, so sometimes it felt weird to wear a normal shirt without it, but with her vest and leather armor she was plenty secure.

"I will see to it," the maid hummed, coming over and taking her night shirt and then her pants once she passed them off. "These will be clean for tonight, and I'll wash the others, too. Now go eat and have fun visiting Sir da Vinci."

"Alright, alright, sheesh. You're actually _worse_ than I remember you," Catherine snorted, giving a mock look of annoyance before she laughed a moment later and headed out.

She was immediately hit with a strong scent of lavender, and already there were sounds of "work" being done. She was only thankful the staircase didn't quite go into the open area, so she could slink out of sight if need be. She pulled up her hood, just in case. A quick scan told her there were only a few men in the place, and the ladies were keeping them occupied. Most all the laps were occupied and some bosoms were far too exposed for her liking—enough so she frowned a little as her cheeks went red. She hadn't ever been exposed to it—not in person, anyways—so it was a bit overwhelming, if only for the enticement of forbidden fruit. A little shameful and pathetic of her, but it couldn't be helped. As Ezio said, she was quite "innocent" even if she knew about it.

Sighing, the redhead hurried along the edges, keeping her head low and out of sight of the ladies and their customers. The men were thankfully too occupied with their fun time to notice her, and so she went unbothered on her journey to the back room they had been taken to last night. It was easy enough to reach; one only need to walk along the near wall of the stairs and slip around the corner where a small indent was. There was a door there not easy to see at a glance, so it worked well for them. Furthermore, it was simple to move curtains and decorations in such a way that no one saw the door handles or seams. Catherine was certainly glad for it, and slipped inside.

There was already breakfast on the table, some of it already gone—no doubt it was to feed all the ladies here. There was milk, too, and so she happily grabbed a plate to scoop the eggs, fruit, and piece of meat onto. She knew it was Annetta's work and lamented how she'd missed it. Ghita's cooking was amazing to be sure, but the other woman just had a different touch that filled you with warmth, and not because the food was hot. The milk was equally good and helped wash it down, too.

"Annetta's?" Ezio's voice rang out, and she glanced over to see the young man ease the door closed behind him. His hair was still disheveled and she could see some marks on his neck. Thankfully the woman in question had made sure his attire was in good condition, so there were no signs on his gear that he'd had any fun. Of course, his stupid grin said everything.

_'Not like you care. You don't. You don't care at all,' _she grumbled internally while she nodded, motioning to the large platter. "Yep. Eat up. We got a big day."

"I will need it—had quite the fun night," he purred with delight, giving her a teasing look. She glared before rolling her eyes and looking away with a huff. She downed a bit more of her food while the young man chuckled. "Why are you upset, my dear kitty-Cat?"

She threw a cushion at him, "Don't call me that. And I'm not. I'm just itching to get going, and you're going too slow."

"Well, you can't expect a man to be up and about after a night of fun," he smirked, and her glare deepened.

"I expect a man with work to do to not be having that kind of fun if he's going to busy, but if you're too tired I can just go myself. We'll get it done much faster then. Less distractions."

He chuckled, "If you knew what kind of fun those 'distractions' can be, you wouldn't be so inclined to brush them off, you know."

"Actually, I would, because I happen to remember we're here to do a _job_," she snapped, jabbing an accusing finger at him. He paused, watching her briefly, and sighed.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I promise I'll behave today, alright?" he replied softly, giving her a small smile. She was the one to watch him now—much longer than he did—and set her plate down to fold her arms over her chest. She let out a deep breath of air as she kept his gaze.

"Look, I don't… I don't _care_ if you… you _know_. It's… it's what you do and like to do… but we have a job to do _first_. I know you know that, and… I'll take your word for it here. You got a little drunk, and Paola provided an…. outlet. Again, that's fine you use it. Or whatever. It's your business, not mine. But at least keep it to a minimum when we're on the job, alright? Please? Or at least don't _tell_ me. I don't really want to hear about it."

Ezio was silent for a little while before he nodded, "Alright. I can do that. And I apologize for upsetting you."

"I wasn't upset—." she began, flushing some. Was she really being so worked up over this? It wasn't even her business who he gave his attentions to. He was a free man, and it wasn't like he even knew she had a crush. It was _just_ a crush, too. It wasn't even serious.

"You know," he mused, brow waggling, "I have said you are more than welcome to join if you're that troubled about being left out."

"That is _not_ what I meant!" she growled, taking her remaining cushion and throwing it at him. She then promptly folded her arms tight over her chest. "Fuck off you jerk."

Ezio only laughed, causing her cheeks to burn all the more. She honestly hated how easy it was for him to say one little thing and get to her. It was ridiculous, and it somehow made it harder for her to deny the fact she did have a crush or squash it. She would just have to make do and hope it passed with time. Unfortunately, she had a feeling enduring his fun time with the women here was probably the best way to do it. It was, after all, a sure sign he didn't really have any affections for her—not real ones. Oh, he would tease her, but he hadn't shown interest like with the courtesans or women in the city. That had to mean he felt nothing back—right?

Catherine shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time, and she had food to finish. She was only so lucky Ezio was now occupied with his meal, and so it was mostly held in silence. She supposed for his own guilt—if he felt it at all for his actions, which he probably didn't—or at least for how good the food was. However, that only went on so long, and soon they finished and stood back up.

"Well, ready to get going?" Ezio inquired as he rolled his shoulders and adjusted his gear.

She nodded, doing the same, "Yep. You have the Codex page from Vieri?"

"Indeed. It's safe and sound. Paola said Leonardo is always in his workshop, so we should have no trouble catching him there. Remember we're there for the Codex—not more drawing and painting."

"Yeah, yeah. And just remember we're here to find the Pazzi, not your way between a woman's legs," she quipped right back. It got a chuckle from him as he slipped his hood over his head. He made to motion at something, but paused, as if recalling something.

"Catherine, I forgot to mention, but Paola gave me a lead last night—before I, ah… went to bed," he hummed, allowing her a "uh-huh" look before he went on. "She said we need to find someone that we have to 'see' but cannot approach normally. She didn't give me a name—I believe she means to test us some, or perhaps help us learn by doing it ourselves, but she did at least give us that hint."

"So… we have to find someone who we can't 'see' in public? So someone kind of like us then?"

"Maybe. She would not say much. She just… did that smile of hers, but I think it means this person is an ally, or was—of my father's. They could be of great help."

"An ally," Catherine mused, the words bringing back the flicker of a memory. She couldn't fully grasp it, though, but she knew he was right. There was some ally in this city—they just didn't know where. "I guess we have to go and find out then, won't we?"

He nodded and then motioned to a door on the opposite side of the room, "Paola said to go out the back to avoid the crowd out front. It's still early, so we should be able to go unnoticed, but you know the drill."

"Yep. So you just behave, buster. I don't want to have to save your ass today," she hummed right back.

He shook his head as he got to the door and opened it, "I will do my best. Now, shall we, kitty-Cat?"

Catherine paused to give him a look, smack his belly, and then stepped on through out into the open. It was time to get to work.

* * *

**31** – _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_Well, not super Cat feels but there is some good sass I think this chapter. And for those wanting those feels... just wait. Just waaaiiit... next chapter has some BIG ones, so get ready. Also, get ready for some Leonardooooo! xD He's coming back and sticking around for a chapter or so. Oh, and many other reunions are to come, too, before the big battle so get ready! ;) I'll see you week after next!_


	33. I Will Be There

**TMWolf: **_Whelp, it's update time! Right, so just fyi, AC: Syndicate came out, so a good chunk of my free time will go to that, so next update maaaaay take a bit. Maybe. Hopefully this chapter gives you enough feels to last until next update ha ha xD_

_Right. So. This is the Catzio feels chapter I mentioned, so, I guess, prepare for them :p_

_Review time (thanks so much for them! I always love your input/questions/comments/etc.! _

**CCanary**: _Lucky for you, I've updated just in time! ;) Thanks so much!_

**_Guest:_**_ Ha ha, well you might one day! In his own way xD_

**_Happy Guest: _**_Oh my gosh thank-you sooooooo much! Your review made my day when I read it! I'm so glad you think so and I'm happy to give you that more! As for your question... At the moment, I'm ending before Brotherhood for reasons, but I do actually have a "story" for Brotherhood, but it doesn't really "fit", so to speak, for what I have all here. It'd be more like a side-story in my honest opinion, but that may change over time. For now, though, the story will most likely end before Brotherhood :)_

**_Laurel:_**_ I do love them sexual innuendos *brow waggle* Ha ha, yeah 'Cat finally admits she likes him... to herself ID It'll be a long while before the truth comes out, though, tee hee. _

_So I think that's everything. This chapter, whose song and lyrics are meant to fit the chapter itself are Odessa - I Will Be There. It's a good emotional song, I think, so feel free to look it up and have a listen :)_

_Now time for the chapter! Enjoy!_

* * *

**32 **_– I Will Be There_

* * *

**April 23, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

It was busy in _Firenze_ despite the somewhat early hour, but thankfully only in terms of shopkeepers and some early buyers. There was a distinct lesser number of guards—no doubt due to the changing of them. Catherine and Ezio were happy to make the most of it, although they still stuck to the back alleys as much as possible. It wasn't feasible the entire way there, and so they made sure to just keep among the crowd as they walked. However, there was a lighter sense of caution with fewer eyes watching, so there was some enjoyment to be had in roaming the city. In fact, Ezio had made a small request to tour a bit while they had some time—after all, Leonardo was not all that far away. The redhead only hesitated briefly before she nodded to him, realizing why. He was home again. Who wouldn't want to see it after two years away? Who knew what had changed or hadn't?

So she followed the young man as he went through the streets, eyes wide and roving everywhere beneath his hood. He was almost like a young child in a candy store, yet it was so much more. He would stop at every stall he knew, and some she recognized from her time there. One was the very small place they would get their sweet bread from to eat after a run. Another was a place he had told her had things Petruccio loved and would ask him to buy. Another was Claudia's favorite cloth market, and then there was where his father and mother went to find cloth or other items like books for the house. She could see the nostalgia clear in his eyes; a misty look as he smiled ever so slightly at each and every place. He even laughed lightly as he reminded her of how they would run along the very roofs above them, although it would be a bad idea now. He even recalled a particular bridge and alleyway where he'd fought Vieri, and wondered how the two of them had come to where they were; one skulking his home like a stranger, and the other dead in the dirt. Not far from there he recalled a spot—some bridge with a clear view of everything—where there was a bench. He had followed his brother to it once, and watched him sit there for hours, just watching; waiting. He had eventually come to realize he waited there for the woman who would never returned, but had left her mark on the bench—an odd name, never to be heard again.

It was hard to watch him like that, but she didn't dare say anything to pull him away from it; she had a feeling that would only make it worse. A part of her knew they needed to start working as soon as possible, but she pushed it aside. He needed this more. He needed to see all this. He needed to remember and be happy, and feel some joy despite what sadness lingered. So she left him be as she continued to follow him along, and only replied as need be or smiled here and there. She just hoped this was helping, but she couldn't be sure. He was smiling, but sometimes she thought it didn't fully reach his eyes. She didn't yet know what to say, though, so she just kept an eye out for more guards and Ezio did what he needed.

Unfortunately, keeping an eye out for others caused her to not mind where he was going, and so she bumped right into his back with a short sound of surprise. She blinked, staring at the dark cape, but he didn't turn around. His focus was straight ahead, and when she leaned around him, she realized why.

It was the _Palazzo_.

His home.

It was in a sorry state, and the sight of it made her gut clench. More than a few windows had been shattered, and the walls were dirty and faded where it wasn't already chipped. The entry way gate had been forced open and hung ajar. The inside patio was chipped and cracked, and some pieces were gone. Further in, she could see more windows broken and the main door crudely put back into place and in poor shape. She didn't dare imagine what the inside looked like, although she knew deep down it had probably been ransacked. Already statues from outside were missing, so it undoubtedly true. The flags on the walls which had once flown so proudly were shredded, torn, and scorched if not already gone. The _Palazzo_, which had once been such a place of grandeur no longer retained its luster. It was an empty grave; a silent reminder of what once was.

Carefully, she came to stand at an angle to his front, watching him. His face was impassive save for his eyes, which stared unwaveringly. She wondered what he saw—the destruction; the emptiness; the memories. Whatever it was, it kept him quiet as he just stared and stared and stared. She almost thought he had stopped breathing, but she could just barely make out the movement of his chest. Her heart clenched tighter than her gut, and she looked down at his hands, which remained down at his side. They were lax and unmoving, and she reached out to the one near her. Gingerly, she wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing lightly.

"Ezio?" she called softly, and he blinked, pulled from his stupor some. He was not completely free, though, as he looked over at her in a daze. It only lasted for a moment, and then he smiled sadly, head falling some. He squeezed her hand back, looked to the _Palazzo_, and then to the ground.

"Forgive me—I was… ah… remembering," he replied softly.

She smiled back, "It's okay. It's… it's hard—isn't it?"

"Um… yeah. I… I remember them. Our time here. I miss it… I wish… I wish I could have stopped it. I always think how if I had been stronger or known," he sighed, the sadness flooding over his irises. She could feel his fingers tighten in his despair, and so she moved closer. Her hand came to rest on his cheek, causing his head to lift so his gaze found hers. She gave him the most comforting smile she could as she rubbed her thumb along the slight scruff forming there.

"You know it wasn't your fault, and there was nothing you could have done—probably not even now. No one can change the past no matter how much we want. You can only work to ensure history won't repeat itself… and that you live your life to its fullest for them. You know that."

His watched her for a while before nodding with a sigh, letting his head lean into her hand, "I do… I do, and you're right. Still—it hurts."

"I know, I know. It'll be okay, though," Catherine told him gently as she released his hand so she could pull him into an embrace. She didn't care who might be watching them or how odd it might be; she pulled him close and let him latch his arms around her, longing for the comfort. She was all too happy to give it and let him hold it as long as he needed. It must have lasted forever, although it was probably only a few minutes before he released his grip and took a step back. His eyes were closed while he inhaled deeply, centering himself. When they opened, the brown irises were clearer—steadier. There was still a lingering sadness, but it was further back.

"We should get going—sorry I took us on this detour," he chuckled, turning towards the way to Leonardo's. Catherine came up beside him, nudging him gently to get his attention.

"It's fine. If I was in your shoes I'd do the same. If I ever get home, I probably _will_ do it, even if no time has passed," she chuckled, earning a grin from him.

"Still, I promise I'll behave from now on. Although, give me a smack if I get side tracked, alright?"

She smirked, lifting up her gloved hand, "Ready and waiting."

"Oh good, I thought you would use your sword."

"Nah, that's for when you're _really_ messing around… although now that you mention it, I should probably try to hide my blade better… I've been getting a lot of looks."

"Mm… I suppose a cape like mine would help, but really a cloak might be better… We probably should have thought of that sooner," he rumbled, glancing down at her blade.

"I got so used to _Monteriggioni_. No one thought twice about it, but here…"

He waved his hand as they ascended the nearby stairs, "We'll figure it out. Leonardo may have something."

"Please. Even if he does it's buried underneath all his things. Did you not go inside his workshop at all?" she inquired, brow raised.

"Yes, I did, thank-you very much, and I did see it was rather… disheveled, but he can't be _that_ bad."

"_You_ didn't spend many days in a row with him," she snickered, but then paused as they came to the open area where the artist dwelled. Her heart raced with anticipation and a bright grin spread across her face. "Aaah, I can't believe we're here—I don't even know what to say to him!"

Ezio laughed, using his hand to push her forwards, "Usually a 'hello' works well, but let's just see if he's home first!"

Catherine laughed right back and obeyed his urging, moving ahead to the closed door. She knew the shapes of the mother and child, and the dark color of the wood. It brought back memories at once, and she was practically hopping on her feet as the young man knocked on the door. A muffled "come in" came from inside, and that was all they needed. They entered at once, and the redhead wasn't all that surprised to find the place more cluttered than ever. There were far more paintings, many left unfinished or nearly there, but some were completely done and looked ready to go. Some of his inventions littered the outer area of the room, and she recognized his flying machine held up by ropes near the ceiling. She spotted artistic tools all around, and there were even a great deal of books here and there. The artist himself, as usual, was leaning over his desk, concentrating on some parchment before them. However, he turned as they came closer, and his eyes both widened and lit up like the sun at the sight of them.

"Ezio! You are still alive!" he exclaimed, coming over to grasp the young man's arms with relieved delight. He then looked to the redhead, and he did not hesitate to embrace her, which she gladly returned. "And Catherine—oh! Oh, it is so good to see you! I did not think I ever would again!"

"Well, I'm back, and I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, too," she giggled, holding his hands briefly before he dropped them out of courtesy.

Ezio smirked and motioned to the room, "Look at this place! The past two years have been kind to you."

Leonardo turned to look at him and then her again, and stepped back some. The light in eyes dimmed some as realization came over, bringing a sad expression with it. Catherine smiled back, but it was too late; he had seen them—seen the changes.

"But you two are not the same at all, are you…?" he asked softly.

"Things… A lot of things happened," the redhead replied, gazing dropping briefly. Ezio glanced back at her and then back to Leonardo, whose shoulder he grasped warmly.

"Forgive me, my friend, but we have not only come for a reunion: we were hoping you might be able to help with us with something."

Leonardo's smile returned, "Do not worry—I would do anything for you, my friends!"

"Thank-you, Leo, although I promise to catch up as much as we're able while we're back here," Catherine stated, much to the artist's happiness. However, it quickly changed to curiosity when Ezio freed the codex page from his vest. The artist laughed at once as he took it, that "look" of his when he had such an idea or had a puzzle to solve coming over him.

"Aha! You have found another one! How exciting!" he exclaimed, grin wide as he spun on his heels and made for his desk. Catherine touched Ezio's arm just as the young man made to follow, bringing forth a raised brow.

"What one did you bring before? He never gets this excited over just a paper," she murmured, but the artist was so caught up in his work he wouldn't have heard them anyways.

Ezio lifted his hidden blade arm, "The one that helped him repair this. It was a puzzle, but he solved it quickly."

"I don't doubt it—he's got a mind like no one else," the redhead grinned, and then finally came to their friend's side. He was mumbling about something, apparently on the verge of figuring it out. Catherine tilted her head, trying to see. "What is it? Did you figure it out?"

"Almost—wait! What is that?!" he gasped, peering closer, but then stood back up to look to Ezio's arm, which was free of a bracer. "Hmm… it's not so much a design this time… Just a series of sketches—details of Assassination techniques. I think it is a manual of them. Yet, hmm..."

"What is it? Can I see it—try these techniques?" the young man urged while the redhead peered at them. They looked incredibly familiar to what they had already practiced. In fact, now that Leonardo had adjusted the writing, it was translated perfectly for her—air assassinations, like from the tree; haystack as they had done; and one from a ledge, but that would be easy enough. However, something caught her eyes—a picture of an Assassin with _two_ blades. _That _was curious.

"You've already done most of them, to be honest—but not these ones," she spoke up, pointing to the pictures. "_Two_ blades. We don't have two blades."

"Ah! But I can make one—_only_ one, I'm afraid. It is such an inspired idea, though—the blade is so well hidden and far less conspicuous as the one you have now. I mean no offense, of course," Leonardo grinned slightly as he grasped Ezio's hidden blade gauntlet with both hands.

"None taken. Can you make it, though?" the young man inquired, though paused as he glanced at the redhead. "You should make it for Catherine."

The woman in question blinked, but shook her head, "No, you take it, Ezio. I prefer using my sword, anyways. Leonardo, make it for him. If you ever get enough of the right materials again, you can make me one."

"You are certain?" the artist asked, to which she nodded.

"Wait—Leonardo, no, give it her," Ezio pressed, pouting, but the artist only chuckled.

"Ezio, my friend," he mused, patting his forearm again, "you must not know Catherine very well if you think she will allow me to make this for her now. Just accept it, and I will make one for her when I have the materials again. If it troubles you greatly, I can begin looking at once and perhaps get it done before you leave, yes?"

"He's right, Ezio. I won't let him make me one now, so just accept it," the redhead grinned impishly. "Anyways… so I guess we just have to wait around for now until he gets it done since we've done all this before and more."

"Oh, yes, please—have a seat! I know I have something to eat and drink somewhere. Oh! And Catherine, would you like to draw or paint? I have plenty of materials to spare," the artist beamed as he went to fetch some chairs and tugged them over. He quickly found some cheese, bread, wine, and some artistic tools, ensuring they would be well cared for. That done, he began to shuffle around for materials. "It should not take me too long I think—only perhaps an hour so, please, relax. And do feel free to talk of what all has happened since you have been gone. I have missed you all terribly."

"Well, there is definitely a lot to talk about," Catherine grinned, looking over at Ezio as she plopped into a seat and got some parchment and charcoal.

The young man grin, "Indeed… what would you ask us first, Leonardo?"

"Well," Leonardo chuckled as he set his materials on his table and started to thinker with the parchment for reference. "How about where you have been, because I do not think Catherine went to England?"

The redhead paused, blinking almost owlishly, and even Ezio looked over with surprise, but then they laughed and told him all they could.

**-O-**

"It sounds like you two have been very busy then—are you certain you cannot tell me more, though? Of what happened in _San Gimignano_?" Leonardo asked with his back turned, still working away. Not quite an hour had gone by, but it was enough time for them to explain all that had passed in their absence—even her nearly six-months longer leaving. They couldn't tell him everything, however. It was too dangerous. They didn't dare explain what all their work entailed, although the artist did understand they were assassins of sorts. Yet, that did not frighten or deter him from their friendship. He had a deep trust in them, and so knew they did so only for something good and because they had to. He honestly wished to know more, but he also respected the danger of it and that it might be better he was kept some distance away. They still said what they thought was safe, though, and told him of their reunion and the long training and missions and how their battle in the Pazzi's city had led them to here.

"Let's just say… one of our enemies won't bother us anymore, and that the countryside can relax for a little while," Catherine replied, and she saw the artist wince a little, but smile and nod with understanding. He was not a man of violence, so she lamented explaining what they did, but he still understood. He perhaps might know better than most when some of his "special" work involved matter that most would not like, either.

"Well, I am only glad you are both safe. I would have been very sad to no longer be able to see my friends," he chuckled.

"We would have been sad as well—especially Catherine. She was quite the bundle of joy before we got here," Ezio chuckled, grinning over at her, which made her flush slightly.

Leonardo glanced back, grinning, too, "Oh?"

"I missed you, jeez," the young woman pouted and scribbled some more on her doodles; nothing serious, but a good way to enjoy the passing time.

"And I missed you, too!" the artist laughed, returning to his work briefly before spinning around, eyes alit. He waved them over emphatically. "I have done it! Come quickly! Look!"

Catherine and Ezio exchanged a raising of the brows before they stood and came over. Leonardo urged Ezio to try it on as he turned around, revealing a dark-brown glove with a decently short, and rather open end to fit hit poofy sleeve. It was made from very good quality leather, and it fit snugly when the young man put it on. When he flexed, the blade popped out from where the more open part was, and then back in when he returned his hand to normal.

Ezio couldn't help smiling, "Thank-you, Leonardo."

"No problem—and once I have the materials ordered, Catherine, I will make one to your liking. I can modify the aesthetic look now that I know how to make it proper," the artist chuckled as he looked to Catherine, whom took Ezio's hand to marvel at it.

"It really is amazing—it'd be even better if you can make it fit with my bracer," she mused curiously, holding up her arm. Leonardo took it gently, turning her limb this way and that.

"Hmm… it would take a bit of thinking, but I believe I can do it. It may take longer than his, though—if only to get the fitting right, and I would need your bracer."

"Well, whenever you have the supplies and we can get some free time from our work to get together, you can bet I'll come for it."

"Oh, I would love that—but what work _are_ you doing here? I do not think you fully mentioned it?" he asked, looking between them. Again, the two warriors exchanged a look, though it was Ezio who would reply as he walked around the artist slightly, touching at his new glove.

"There's someone we need to 'see' while we're here. We cannot approach them publicly… Would you know a way—."

Leonardo held up his hand for silence, "_La Volpe_."

"The Fox..?" both Catherine and Ezio inquired in unison, only to be quickly hushed by the artist. The redhead raised a brow, glancing to the young man, whom had the same expression, but nodded.

"I understand," he rumbled, coming closer and lowering his voice. "But do you know where a fox might roam…?"

"Perhaps near the _Mercato_, where the thieves dwell," Leonardo replied just as quietly, eyes shifting as if he were being watched.

Catherine frowned slightly, "Can a 'fox' be trusted?"

"If you earn its trust."

"Then we will have to tread carefully. Thank-you, Leonardo. For everything," Ezio spoke with determination, grasping the artist's shoulder warmly.

"Anytime, my friends. Be safe, though—and please come back when you can. I miss our talks, and I have no one to really profess my ideas, too!" he chuckled just as Catherine came over and hugged him tight.

"I don't know how long we'll be here, but I'll definitely find time for you. Somehow. I want to know what's been going on with you, too," she grinned back as she pulled away.

"I look forward to it. Now go on—a fox does not roam the streets long. It may take you some time to hunt him down."

"Then let us not waste it," Ezio nodded, looking to Catherine, whom nodded back.

"See you later, Leo," she waved to the artist, whom returned the gesture, and then they headed out. She didn't want to go; no, she would have gladly preferred to stay the whole rest of the day and night just catching up and talking about anything that came to mind with Leonardo, but they had a mission. If Ezio wasn't allowed to flirt with the courtesans, then she couldn't be given the same courtesy with the artist. She hated having to accept that, but it was only fair, and finding _La Volpe_ to help with the Pazzi was more important. She would still find time to see him, though.

"Right, so, do you know the way to the _Mercato_?" she asked as they pulled their hoods back up once in the sunlight again.

He nodded, "Yes. You actually went with us a few times, but you might not remember. I'll lead the way… though perhaps we should take to the roofs. It might be easier to find a fox from above."

"A 'fox' might even be on the roofs. I've seen some thieves lounging about up top here and there," the redhead mused.

"Even more reason then. Let's get going while we still have daylight—we have hours at most, I think."

"We'll have more time tomorrow for sure, although I guess we could try at night, too, which may mean we should go in shifts—one during the day, the other at night?" she suggested as they turned into an alleyway to find a place to climb. With more guards, being inconspicuous about it was all the more necessary.

Ezio paused, considering, and then started to climb, "That may be a good idea, but not until we know our location better. If there are not too many guards, we may be able to afford it. Today, we should watch together."

"Right. Hopefully the guards won't be a bother, but… well, you know," Catherine sighed as he reached the top. The young man waited for her, extending his hand, which she took so he could help her up. There, they both paused and looked out at the city, which was always so different from the roofs. Nostalgia hit her hard, and she knew he felt the same. How many times had they viewed such sights together here? It was so long ago, but now it felt as though it had happened yesterday. It was bittersweet, though, with the last member of their trio gone.

"Well, shall we?" Ezio smiled, albeit a bit sadly as he motioned with his head into the distance. Catherine nodded, and that was that. They headed off, keeping an eye on the others roofs not only for the quickest route—although memories quickly returned and she recognized some of the paths—but the safest as well. There were more guards than they would like, and some did notice them and made various shouts, but they were too far away to do anything. Their arrows, perhaps, might have worked, but by the time they had them docked, the two of them were already gone from sight.

The narrow passageways and cover spots helped with that, and it made a perfect haven for Thieves as she'd figured. They were various spots that showed they'd been used before; sludge or dirt or marks or stains. Sometimes they even found a coin or two or some piece of cloth with more stains. Frankly, she didn't exactly like what she was seeing despite the fact the paths were proving useful. If this fox was part of the thieves, then he ran with the rabble that made the marks. She wasn't so sure this was the kind of rabble they should be involved with, but did they have a choice? Paola didn't know where the Pazzi were, and none of the ladies hadn't seen anything unusual according to her These thieves were appearing to be their only option.

Their short sojourn brought them to a large opening surrounded by tall buildings, with a column-supported, square archway in the center. It was elegantly decorated, and below was the epitome of a market; stalls were set about all along it filled with all kinds of goods. Some were fruit and meats, while others were cloth or paint supplies. One stand even sold proper art and full on clothing, and there was a blacksmith not far away. Peering around a bit more she found a medicinal stand. Of course, adding to all of it were the people; the streets were cluttered with them of all kinds—including guards. Two she could see on the far ledges up top, but they would be able to hide from sight for the most part. Down below were more sets of guards, these in a group of four and then two on opposite ends of the market. One looked like a decent scout, but the rest were average save for what looked a captain. If there was a fight, they could undoubtedly handle it, but they certainly weren't looking for it.

"See anything?" Catherine asked from their perch, lounging between two walls set close together on a landing. She was closer to the edge on one side, and he sat just behind her on the opposite, both gazing out on the scene.

He rumbled, pulling out an apple from his pack and taking a bite, "Not a lick. We'll just have to be patient hounds. You want one?"

"No, I'm good. Damn, though… wish fox-hunting was easier… at the very least we can learn the routine of the guards… but how much time do we have you think?" she replied, glancing over at him just as he frowned slightly.

"I don't know… not enough, I imagine, if we can't find this _La Volpe_. I only wish I could have known more of what went on this city—the allies my father had. Surely he had them."

"Yeah, he did. He mentioned one once—briefly. I don't remember who. It's been too long, but they're bound to be here… I think it was a man. Probably a man. I don't think many women tend to be thieves… or much besides Paola's girls I figure," she mused, shifting some as she lifted a knee up.

Ezio grinned slightly, "Except you, right?"

She gave him a look, but grinned a little, "Except me."

"Mm… you know, I think you could do well as one of 'Paola's girl'."

"…_huh_?" she mused, brow raising at him while he grinned like an imp.

"Oh, yes, yes… you would look quite _ravishing_, my dear kitty-Cat," he purred, eyes roving over her. Catherine laughed as she rolled her eyes and pushed him away with her heel.

"The day I become a courtesan is the day I've gone insane. Now keep your dirty thoughts to yourself you perv, and keep your eyes on the crowd. Be useful and use that Vision of yours. We've got a long way."

"Yes, my Lady," Ezio snickered, biting again into his apple.

Catherine rolled her eyes, but she was smiling all the same. Despite how things had been going, their little banter made it feel like old times. It was nice, and made the worry of their mission a bit lighter—just enough to take some joy in it so she was able to watch with a touch of levity at the scene below. She tried to find anything odd or unusual once she discovered a decent pattern of things, but there was nothing. No signs. Even after hours and hour, the sun moving steadily across the sky, there was nothing. It was disheartening, but what could they do? They didn't even know who they were looking for. It was frustrating, too, and Ezio made his show of it through exasperated sighs and slight pacing here and there. She did the same, but only to stretch her legs or move about. It was boring, seemingly pointless, and thus far fruitless.

Catherine yawned as she shifted, rubbing at her eyes. Boring work tended to be the tiring kind in its own way, and with the moon peering over the horizon, it had been going on for forever. There were fewer people now, and the shops were starting to close. Guard shifts had already changed, and they had the new routine memorized. She almost count the steps exactly now, and through it all nothing. No one unusual. No one of interest. Nothing. No fox.

"You should head back to the _Rose_—it's getting late," Ezio spoke up softly, and she turned to find his eyes shining with a bit of gold in the night. He was using his Vision again after a long break. By his expression, he, too, had found nothing.

"I'll be fine. Besides, you're going to try and stay here on your own, and we're better off working together," she replied, looking back to the crowd.

"Yes, but you can't see in the dark—you don't have the Vision," he pressed, and she groaned slightly. It was true, her eyesight was failing in the oncoming night. Her only source of light was the moon and the lit torches, but it wasn't enough. Oh, she could see far better than most after all her training and work in the dark, but it was nothing like the Eagle Vision. Still, that didn't mean she wouldn't stick around.

"Yeah, but I can still see and hear if a guard is coming," she retorted, doing her best to be steadfast.

He sighed, looking to her, "Catherine, I can tell when you're tired. Go back. We'll start doing this in shifts—I'll take nights, and you days. It will give you time to speak with Leonardo after you're done as well."

"Ezio, it's safer if we work together—what if something happens when I'm gone?"

"We are both more than capable of handling ourselves on our own, you know that," he chuckled as he stood up and held his hand out to her. He smiled warmly at her as he waited. "Although, I am touched about your concern—perhaps you care for me more than you let on?"

Catherine gave him a look, but took his hand so he could pull her up, "Only so much as I can prevent saving your ass, being that I don't want to have to save it later because you do something dumb. Also, I promised Claudia I would bring you back as intact as possible."

"Well, then I promise to behave… and I imagine I won't stay out much longer. As soon as I begin to yawn heavily, I'll head back, too, alright?" he smiled again, rubbing his thumb along the top of her hand before she pulled it away.

"I never said I agreed," she mused back, brow raised. He gave her a look back just as she yawned again, much to her annoyance, and so sighed. She rolled her eyes and waved him off. "Fine, fine… I'll go this time if only so you stop being a pill."

"I'll be back later. Safe and sound. I'll be on my best behavior, too—I promise. No fooling around," he chuckled. She paused, meaning to make some retort as she narrowed her eyes at him; testing him. He just grinned right back, so she relented with another roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Better keep that promise," she huffed, turning around to head off. She paused, though, and looked back at him. "Be careful, okay?"

He smiled warmly, "I will."

She smiled back, gave a small wave, and headed off.

**-O-**

Catherine sighed as she flipped through one of the few books in her room while she lounged on her bed, waiting for either the hours to whittle by or for her body to conk out on its own. Neither had happened just yet, although the former was doing a decent job. It had to be close to midnight, but there was no proper clock in the room, and her Clock didn't tell time. No, it sat partially-uselessly on her night stand. She supposed there was some good to the waiting; Annetta had come to talk with her some time ago and even brought her dinner since she'd had to sort of slink upstairs when she'd first arrived, missing the meal. Thankfully all the men had been too occupied to notice or care, so she went by, once again, unnoticed, save for the maid. She was certainly glad for the woman's company for the little while, although she had to grimace at the warning about the noise to come. Apparently it would be worse than usual tonight with a greater number of customers.

It hadn't started in full yet, or so she figured, but she knew she'd hear it soon enough—already there were happy, muffled cheers and groans here and there. It wasn't too bad, so she was able to enjoy her book about the history of the city. Boring, but better than nothing. Unfortunately, Annetta couldn't stay with her. She had other chores to attend to, most being cleaning, which meant the redhead was on her own for the night. She supposed she could have just forced herself to sleep, but she was waiting for Ezio, too. He hadn't come back yet—she would have heard him go by in the "no-work" area of the house or he might have even knocked, but there was nothing. She was worried, but he was okay. He said he would be, and she trusted him. He would behave and come right back once it was late enough.

Sighing again, Catherine rolled onto her back and let her book fall on her face. Why did waiting have to be so boring? And why did it have to come after a full day of failure? Well, seeing Leonardo was great, but not finding a fox had been the worst. She could only hope Ezio's delay was because he had found their ally, but she doubted it. That would be too easy. Groaning some, she shoved the book more into her face.

It came to a pause, though, as there was a knock on her door. She perked up at once, and quickly adjusted her sleeping shirt and pants in case it was too revealing. She didn't really want to accidentally flash Ezio, although he wouldn't mind it. In fact, she dared to say he _wanted_ it, but she was never one to be like that. So, once satisfied, she came to the door, wholly expecting to find the young man either with a sad look or an overly cheerful one.

As such, she was not expecting the slightly coy smile on the decidedly feminine face of Paola.

"Uh—er—uh—um—hi?" she managed to blur out, puzzlement clear on her face.

"Good evening, my dear… might I come in?" the woman chuckled, and Catherine found she could only nod dumbly and step aside. The Madame waltzed in, her dress—this time gold with red—trailing behind her all the way to the bed where she sat on the edge. She motioned for the redhead to join her, which Catherine did, watching her oddly. Paola's coy smile returned. "Forgive my late visit—I only wished to inquire as to the satisfaction of your stay here. You are my guest, after all."

"Oh, well, uh… it's… well, the rooms are great and really nice and fancy. And Annetta's cooking is great, and it's a safe places, and, um," Catherine replied awkwardly, rubbing her arm.

"But?" the woman mused, her smile never leaving. The redhead's awkwardness grew worse, and she winced as she glanced at the door where most of the sound kept coming from.

"Um… the… noise? Annetta mentioned it would be… busy tonight."

Paola chuckled softly, "I can only apologize, but that is the nature of this place. I am afraid this is one of the quietest rooms; there is not much I can do."

"It's not your fault… I mean, I guess technically it is since it's your business, but, I mean, if men could keep it in their pants," she grumbled, but then flushed a little. "Uh, that is—I mean, I don't hope you don't have business or anything, just, um… er…"

"Do not worry—I am not offended… merely… curious now. I take it you do not know the pleasure?"

Catherine's cheeks went bright red, "Y-yes, well—not… not every woman is so open with their legs! I—I… Oh, jeez, I-I didn't—fuck me… I didn't mean to say it like that! I'm sorry—I didn't—!"

Paola raised her hand, her smile warm, "Do not worry yourself, I know you did not mean it truly. What my ladies do is not what all women do… just as you do what even fewer women can. Like them, you have a roll to fulfill, though it is very different from the one we play. Perhaps you do not know it yet, or perhaps do not yet see, but he is lucky to have you at his side. It is an awful thing to be alone in the world."

Catherine stared at Paola for a long while, contemplating her words. She thought she understood them mostly, but she had to admit a little was lost on her. What exactly was she getting at? What roll was she talking about? Did she know about the Clock somehow? But that was impossible?

Paola's light laugh only puzzled her more, "You will understand in time. For now, I will only bid you good night… and I hope the noise is not too troubling for you. Oh, and if there is something you need, do not hesitate to ask."

"Um… right…. And good night," the redhead replied hesitantly as the woman stood. Paola kept on smiling, always appearing as if she just knew something the others didn't. It was a bit discerning in some ways, and something else entirely in others. She was an enigma of sorts, but in the good kind of way, Catherine figured. At the very least, they knew for certain Paola was an ally, so that was something.

Still, the redhead was left tilting her head curiously as the older woman left, shutting the door behind her. Sighing moments later, Catherine returned to the bed with her book, figuring it was best to just forget things. Thankfully, it worked well enough, although the notion lingered in the back of her mind. However, it was kept at bay long enough for at least another hour to go by and for her yawning to increase. She hadn't failed to notice a certain someone wasn't yet back, although it had to be _really _late now. She wasn't necessarily worried, but she was beginning to wonder if she should head out there.

At least, until she heard a familiar laugh.

Again, she perked up, though did not need a knock on the door to go to it. This time, she knew it was Ezio, and had her hand on the knob when another sound reached her ears; two more sets of laughter, decidedly feminine. She frowned a little. The courtesans didn't really come to these rooms—the ones for "business" were in the other wing—so why were the voices getting louder? And why did one sound slightly slurred? It was Ezio's, she realized, and getting closer. Her heart hammered in her chest as the spark of anger flared inside her. What was he doing with those giggling women? Just what was he up to? He couldn't be doing _that_—could he?

She shouldn't have looked. She should have trusted him, but as their voices passed by, mentioning of fun to come, she had to open the door. She dared a peek through and saw him walking to his room, two women under his arms. She could tell he was drunk—not terribly so, but enough. He was laughing like a fool and flirting even worse, but they ate it up. Of course the girls did. It was their job, although she bet he was getting it for free. He always did. He was so smooth and got all the women and he was—he was a promise breaker.

That's what he was.

Gritting her teeth, she shut her door harder than she should have and stormed to her bed. His room was next to hers, though, so she could still hear some of their sounds—their giggles and squeals, and then some moaning. She hated it. Worse still, she couldn't block it out well enough. Even her pillow didn't see to work, so she pulled the covers over her, and that finally seemed to work some. That, or the fun was dying down, but she doubted that. _Both_ Auditore boys had professed their "endurance" and "skill" in bed back when she'd been staying with them here, so she didn't doubt it would go for a while. However, at least with her head smooshed into her pillow and beneath her covers, she might get some sleep. Unless, of course, her anger at a certain someone kept her up.

And it did.

Of course.

How could it not, though? He'd broken his promise! He said he wouldn't fool around, and here he was drunk off his ass and fucking two women! Wasn't he supposed to be working? What the hell had he done after she left? Go off to the nearest tavern or inn or something? Was he that stupid? Maybe. And maybe she was stupid to care. Obviously he was a jerk, and she should just stop caring. She would just do all the work herself, she guessed, and then he could fuck around all he wanted and get nothing done. He could just—just be an idiot. So she didn't need to care. Besides, there was no reason for her to be angry. He didn't owe her anything. They didn't owe one another anything at all. So it was all just stupid.

Sighing for undoubtedly _not_ the last time this night, Catherine realized she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. She was too riled up and upset. That idiot had done it to her, too, but at least the sounds had stopped. Apparently inebriation caused an Auditore to lose that endurance, but that was fine—it gave her the peace she needed. She put her pillow back then, and curled up proper, ignoring any echoes from the other parts of the _Rose_. It thankfully started to work, and she dozed off a few times, although kept waking up briefly.

Then came a knock.

She groaned loudly this time, pressing her hands to her face and sitting up to glare at the door in the dark. Her candle was off, but there were lights out in the hall, so she knew she'd be able to see who it was. She sincerely hoped it was Annetta or something, because she really wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone else. Frankly, she was ready to punch the person on the other side, but she kept her arms steady as she turned the knob and opened the door.

She almost let her control go.

She probably should have, what with Ezio there, leaning against her door frame looking like the sorry piece of shit he was. He was literally a mess. His hair was disheveled, his ponytail almost completely undone. His undershirt was only half-tucked into his pants in a shoddy attempt to look like he'd properly put it back on. His pants looked like they'd been pulled on lazily and his belt even more so, and there was some odd stains on them and his collar. It looked like wine stains, and his breath reeked of alcohol. His eyes looked slightly glazed, too, which only matched the exhausted expression about him, and as he pushed off the wall he wavered some. He made an uneasy sound, like he was groaning and sighing at the same time—as if in pain.

She didn't pity him—not one bit.

"What do you want?" she ground out, glaring harshly at him.

He paused for a long while, as if unable to think right, "I… I need a place… to sleep."

"I think there's two pairs of legs in the other room with an indent the size of your dick waiting for you," she snapped, causing him to flinch.

"There's… there's not… no—no room," he sighed, a look of pure anguish and weariness overcoming him. He met her eyes, pleading. "Catherine…. _Please_."

She wanted to punch him—hard. He had broken his promise, and maybe it was just a stupid little promise they had mostly joked about, but still; he had promised he wouldn't fool around, and yet here he was: fooling around. Yet, even as her fist clenched and her teeth grit, she found her ire settling. How, though? How could it? How could she actually start feeling pity for him after all this? Why should she even care? It wasn't her place in the end, was it? She had no claim to him beyond friendship, so should she be angry with his choice of company or choice of drink?

_'Because you have feelings for him, you idiot_,' she sighed mentally as she looked at him a while longer. He had grown more pitiful in the silence that had permeated between them, and by God, she was apparently a bleeding heart.

"Fine. You can sleep on the sofa here," she grumbled, pointed to the furniture in the room. A flicker of relief crossed over his face, and he stumbled inside. She shook her head at the sight of him, closing the door, and then taking a blanket that Annetta had left in case she wanted more warmth. She grabbed a pillow, too, and set it up on the sofa while he sat on the bed, rubbing at his face. He smelled a bit worse than she thought, a certain musk mixed with the wine, but she ignored it as she finished the bedding and came over to him. He looked at her blearily, not quite all there. She let out a deep breath of air and motioned to the sofa. "Well, it's all set up. Get to it so we both can get some sleep. Just know if you snore, I'm putting you out the door."

Ezio took a moment to reply, but it only came out as grumbles as he rubbed his face again. Catherine rolled her eyes and made to push him towards it. He surprised her, though, by suddenly wrapping his arms around her waist. The motion was gangly, though, and he ended up falling down onto the bed. His head managed to nestle his head onto her belly, his body mostly on the bed, but both legs were draped over the side some, while hers were caught underneath him. She growled, fully intended to remove him, even if she was only being used as a pillow, but paused as he made a sound. She couldn't hear it properly, though, and so narrowed her eyes.

"What?" she asked, leaning up on her arms.

He sighed again, "I… met… with… Cristina… tonight."

Her heart froze for a moment, and then raced with a throbbing ache. She tried to speak; to ask a question, but the words caught in her throat. Ezio, however, had a much looser tongue.

"She—she… married," he began again, the sorrow evident in his voice. "I… I made sure… her husband… made sure he was… was, um… made sure he'd… he'd be… good. Faithful. Make her… make her… happy. She'll be…. Happy… more so if—if she… if she'd been… with me…"

Relief was perhaps the strongest thing she felt, but there was sorrow, too. He had met with the woman he'd loved for so long, and she thought he had forgotten. How stupid was she, though? How could he forget? Even _she_ hadn't forgotten her own woes after all these years—how could he forget his in barely two? Still, her heart ached at the thought he pined for her still, yet there was a burning guilt for the relief she felt knowing Cristina was married; knowing she could never be with Ezio. It was pitiful. She was pitiful. Pathetic.

Ezio's hands grasped her shirt tighter, as if a life line, "Happy… should be… happy she's… happy. Gunna live… good life… but… but it hurts. It hurts… knowing… shouldn't, but…"

Catherine let out a deep breath of air, closing her eyes briefly. Oddly enough, she knew how he felt. Not in the exact same way, but she knew, and knowing smothered her ire for him. It made her pity and compassion grow instead, and she lifted a hand to run it through his hair. She did so gently, slowly, and he leaned into the touch.

"That's… just how love is," she smiled sadly, knowing he did still love Cristina. Though, perhaps now he could really let her go since he had done so physically. "It hurts when we have to give up the things we hold most dear so they can be happy. It's said in my time that love is agony… and they're right. Love is… it's never meant to be easy… but… even though it makes you hurt… it can heal, too. It's… it's a fickle thing like that."

Ezio was quiet after that—enough so she swore he was asleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, and he didn't move in the slightest. She wouldn't have been surprised if he _were_ asleep after all he'd gone through, although she hoped he had at least heard her words. They were the ones she'd always wanted to hear.

"Thank-you," he rumbled suddenly, curling around her more. She blinked down at him as he continued, "Did you… did you love… someone, too? Let them… them go?"

She smiled sadly, although he didn't see it as she lay back after pulling a pillow close, "Yeah. I did once. First boy I ever loved. And I didn't let him go—not like you did… he… never loved me back. It did hurt, though."

Recalling the memories brought with it the familiar sting, but it was dulled. She had not only her feelings growing for another, but the years helped it. She hadn't seen him since High School, and time in college far away had helped. She still knew the pain, though; she still bore her scar, so she knew. She knew the agony, and she knew it could only be healed with time—and with care. She'd only had the first at her disposal, but Ezio had both, so she knew he would recover faster then she had. For now, though, his wallowing would be great.

"Fool… to mm… let you… mmm… go…," Ezio rumbled drowsily, but the words made her heart hammer a little, cheeks warming ever so slightly. He was gone to her moments later, though, lost to his slumber. Catherine sighed softly, stroking his head gently a few more times before she found the covers and pulled them as best she could over him. It would have been more proper to let him sleep beside her, rather than use her as a pillow, but he needed this—the comfort—so she would allow it. And in the end, she knew she would always allow it. She would always have his back, no matter how much it hurt or how much he might make her angry. Love was agony, after all, and she knew she could very easily come to love him.

She felt him stir suddenly, his grip tightening as if afraid to lose something. He made a small, pitiful sound in his sleeping state, and her chest constricted. She wrapped her arms back around him, hand stroking his hair one last time before resting on the back of his neck. It seemed to soothe him, his whimpers growing into calm, silent breaths again. She sighed softly, closing her eyes so sleep could take her, too.

"It's okay, Ezio… I'm here … I'm here."

* * *

_If you ever need someone to cry to_  
_If you ever need someone to hold you_

_I will be there_  
_Standing by your side_  
_I will be there_  
_Standing by your side_

_If you ever need someone_  
_To just love you_  
_If you ever need someone_  
_To simply adore you_

_I will be there_  
_Standing by your side_  
_I will be there_  
_Standing by your side_

* * *

**32 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_So there are your Catzio feels, folks. Enjoy them. They come and go ;) _

_Right. Sooo... yeah, we got Leo-reunion, and now we're searching for La Volpe! Oh, and I did skip the "training" part in the game that happens because, well, that _is_ what I had them do with Mario, ha ha. Seemed silly to re-do it or pretend they didn't know xD_

_Paola is fun to write. So prim and proper, goodness. And then Ezio baby this chapter... Went and visited Cristina (I have made it evening/night time here, while the game was late afternoon, I think) and let her go like he did in the game, although some dialogue maaaaay have been different... but we'll never know hehehe ID_

_Anyways, next chapter things get moving some more so get ready! Almost time for the big event in Firenze! :'D_


	34. Waiting Game

**TMWolf: **_You're in luck guys-I finished the next chapter just in time. I was able to put Syndicate down long enough after collecting just about everything and becoming OP before Sequence 5 haha :'D Ubisoft needs to stop giving me open world capabilities. I abuse them ID_

_Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the Catzio feels last chapter, because there's not quite as many this time. Kind of. They're still there, but, y'know, ha ha. Also, some of you guys know me very well hehee ID_

_Now onto reviews!_

**_Guest (1):_**_ Sadly, I do not have popcorn to give at my disposal ;( Please accept digital version instead? *hands it over* (and thanks so much, of course, haha)_

**_Guest (2):_**_ thank-you soooo much! I really appreciate your words :)_

**_Happy Guest: _**_Haha, well now you can know what happens 'cause update time! :'D And we'll have to see about that side-story xD Still... just an idea hehe_

_And that's all the reviews, so next thing is the song title. Basically nothing to actually do with the story, but it's Banks - Waiting Game_

_Now onto the show!_

_P.S. Keep an eye out for my friend's **Nemesis**_**! **_She's most likely going to update this weekend so get to it!_

* * *

**33** – _Waiting Game_

* * *

**April 24, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

When Catherine woke up, she was distinctly aware of a pressure around and on her chest, a warmth on her lower body, and then another bit of pressure on one leg. She frowned, eyes opening to the sight of the ceiling. It was the room she'd fallen asleep in, and she was under the covers well enough, but she wasn't alone. A glance down showed her it was Ezio, and a flicker of memory told her why. The smell of wine was an equal reminder of what had gone on, and her first reaction of annoyance settled down into pity. His head had found its way to her chest during the night—no doubt seeking the comfort—and while that might have sent her on a small tirade any another morning, this one she let it be. He had been in such pain, after all; he needed some kind of respite.

So, breathing in slowly, she reached up to stroke his hair gently. That was, in part, a selfish act of her own. She'd always wanted to be intimate enough with a handsome young man that they could just lie together, holding one another; her stroking his hair. And now she had it. Sort of. They were hardly intimate, but they had a trust, and she supposed that was enough. It had been enough for the young man she'd spoken of the night before once, and he hadn't had affections for her, so why would it be different for Ezio? Thus, she let things be and didn't dare give hope to herself; it only ruined a person. Instead, she kept her mind focused on things to come as she gently glided her hand through his locks.

She paused when he stirred, though, letting out a sigh. He wasn't fully awake, but his body seemed to curl around her more. His arms tightened and he snuggled closer, not yet conscience. Or no—was that—but it couldn't be. Yet, it was. Sympathy instantly vanished from Catherine's mind as she saw the smuggest grin she'd ever seen appear on his face as he kept his eyes shut while nuzzling more into her chest. She glared at once, but refrained from striking him—for now. Instead, she made a sweet cooing sound as she drew her fingers through his hair again, to which he purred at, acting as if it were instinct.

"Eziooo," she "sang" with only half sincerity, "time to get up."

"Aaaah, but it's sooo comfy," he sighed dreamily, nuzzling some more.

"Well, you're going to have to find another source of comfort this morning you perverted ass!"

She took far too much joy from suddenly grabbing his pony tail and yanking him up. He yelped, grabbing at the back of his head. The motion, unfortunately, caused him to slump off the bed, and his hands grasped onto her shirt for leverage. She promptly pried them free, though, and flung him to the floor. He made a pitiful sound, but she only glared and then slipped out of the bed, making sure to "bump" him a little too hard so he grunted. He no doubt gave her an equally pitiful look as he sat up while she waltzed past, straight to the door.

"Yeesh—was that all really necessarily? I thought you were enjoying that," he pouted, but she only had ice for him as she grasped her door handle, pulled the door open, and put her other hand on her hip.

"Out. _Now_."

He sighed as he trudged over as if the weight of the world on his shoulders, "Can I not stay a little longer and rest—to enjoy the company of a lovely lady?"

"I need to change so I can _work_ today. And _no_. You may not have any of those luxuries. Now get out before I shove my boot up your ass and throw you out," she growled and motioned into the hallway. "You lost that chance with your little stunt. Now out."

"And what if I say no?" Ezio chuckled as he suddenly stood straight and stretched so he had an arm on the door, the other pressed on the wall behind her, and her body between it and him. Her heart raced a little with him so close, but managed to keep her cool as best she could and raised a brow. Her gaze briefly flicked behind him, and she smirked—ever so slightly.

"Well, Annetta might smack you with the basket full of things she's holding."

"Bothering _all_ the ladies here are we_?_" Annetta mused, using the special tone Catherine had only heard once or twice in her stay at the _Palazzo_, but it has struck the fear of God in the children. It did the very same now as the young man suddenly jumped, eyes wide, and spun around. The maid raised her brow now and stared him down as he awkwardly shuffled past towards the hallway. Before he got all the way, though, she shoved his outfit and boots into his chest. "Don't forget these, my Lord. You will need them."

"Yes, Annetta. Thank-you," he hummed nervously now, and promptly skirted down to another room, leaving the two women be. Making a slight snort, Annetta stepped inside, allowing Catherine to close the door behind her. The maid wasted no time setting the redhead's clothes down on the bed and laying them out properly.

"As troublesome as ever. And here I thought he had changed," she mused, to which Catherine laughed.

"In some cases, yes. In many others… not in the slightest. Your timing was perfect, as always."

"I try to make a habit of it. Good to see he has not forgotten who slapped manners into him with a spoon when his mother wasn't around," the maid smirked ever so slightly, much to the redhead's delight. There was a slight pause, though, and a flicker of sadness passed over the maid. "Lady Auditore… Maria… is she… is she truly unwell? Has she gotten no better since…?"

Catherine smiled sadly, "Not much. She hasn't really spoken. Ezio said he got a few words and a smile, but… um… I haven't really… talked to her… at all. I haven't, uh… I haven't been able to bring myself to, and I mean… she's… recovering and all."

"I see… the poor Lady… ah, forgive me. I have upset you. I am sorry," the maid replied, bowing her head and backing away from her bed. "I will leave you to your mission—you will be on your own, yes? Ezio mentioned last night you two would work in shifts…"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, I guess we are. I take days, and him nights. And don't worry, Annetta. I don't mind talking about it—you have a right to know after all your time with them. They really do miss you, you know. Well, at least Ezio and Claudia have said so. I'm glad I can tell her you're doing well."

"Oh, I do miss her—has her temper gotten any worse?"

"Actually, she's been putting it to work—she runs the city finances and she takes out any rage on the men there. You'd be proud of her, I think," Catherine chuckled as she began to slip out of her sleep shirt to replace it with her proper one. Annetta averted her gaze politely, but the redhead saw her beaming.

"I am. I never thought she would do such a thing, but I am glad she found something to do as well."

The redhead grinned, as she looked back, "You should come visit—it's only a day's ride, and I'm sure your sister could survive without you for a week or so."

"Visit?" the maid hummed as Catherine slipped on her vest, tying the string quickly and efficiently—something she learned over the years. Annetta turned back around then, and helped secure everything else and put on her shoulder padding. "I think I would like that, actually."

"Then it's settled. You should find some time to come visit—just be sure to send only me or Ezio a pigeon so you can surprise Claudia," the young woman snickered as she slipped on her glove and bracers, following with her boots, belt, and weapons. At the same time, Annetta helped secure what she could and then stepped back, looking her over. Catherine noticed quickly enough and flushed slightly, looking back with confusion. "Um… what?"

"It's just… I would never have thought—even with you running off with the boys... This almost feels like when Lady Maria and I had to help Lord Giovanni."

"Only less stuff?" the redhead chuckled, to which Annetta nodded and laughed a little back. "Well, you'll probably need to help Ezio then. He takes _foreeeever _to get dressed. I don't know how Giovanni could stand wearing all that. I mean, I'm wearing all this and it almost feels too much. Except, I say that, but I'm totally fine with it, because it really helps in fighting and leaping around everywhere."

"Hmm… you know," the woman mused, adjusting Catherine's collar, whom tilted her head curiously, "you have not changed all that much. I am glad."

"Same to you," the redhead grinned before suddenly hugging Annetta. She pulled back after a few moments, grinning sheepishly. "So… and sorry this will be kinda bad, but… what's for breakfast?"

Annetta just laughed.

**-O-**

Catherine sighed as she wiped some sweat from her forehead, the beads forming all along the rim of her hair despite sitting in the shade. The air was warm, though, as it was in the summer, and she wore more clothes than she had during her first stay in the city, so she wasn't too surprised. Thankfully, it wasn't so much that her body reeked of the sweat; just enough to warrant wiping it away. That, and the heat was the last of her concerns. She'd been lounging about—occasionally pacing or lying flat—and she hadn't found anything suspicious. Throughout she thought maybe it was a mistake to not have Ezio around using his Vision, but apparently he'd fallen right back to sleep in his own bed when Annetta went to check on him, which made her figure using his abilities for so long had exhausted him—among other things. She could only wish she had the Vision, and hope that she would notice anyone unusual or out of place or looking like a "fox".

So far, nothing.

She almost expected it.

She noted the guards were the same and followed the exact same routine as before. There were always little tiny deviations or stops to talk or "snack" or whatever they needed, but nothing distinct. The same could be said of the merchants, and no one looked like they didn't belong or were all that interesting. It was just the same old, same-old, and she was dreadfully bored by the end of it. And hungry. Her stomach had growled more than once despite having eaten a hearty breakfast and small lunch. She often thought to climb down and peruse the market, but even with a new cloak in her grasp—Annetta was kind enough to bestow one upon her—to hide her more feminine and warrior-like qualities, she still stuck out a little. In short, she didn't really want to test whether or not the guards would get curious or how many looks she would get, so she stuck to the perch they'd made, wishing she'd brought some kind of snack. She could endure, though; she'd suffered Mario's training, after all.

Sighing again, Catherine pushed up from her stomach to her rump, leaning against the wall. Her lower back was starting to hurt, so she decided to opt for her rear end to take on the burden. She grabbed her sword and set it on her lap, twisting it around in her hands or running circles around the etching in the metal or rubbing the leather; all things to pass the time and not have her sheath all awkward. It was one of many things she did to try and keep boredom at bay—another reason she wished Ezio had come with her—as she scanned things, found nothing different, and went back to moping. Briefly, she looked to the sky, and noted the sun was pretty far along, but it probably wasn't dinner time.

"Catch."

Turning sharply, Catherine lifted her hands out of instinct to catch an apple tossed at her. It must have been black magic or something, because Ezio was standing there right before her, grinning, and with a pouch slung over his shoulder. He had the flap open, so she could see a bottle of wine and food inside. He grinned at her hungry look before she sunk her teeth into the fruit, and plopped down right beside her.

"Annetta thought you would be hungry, so she sent me with gifts. A good thing of wine, and some good food. Care to share dinner with me?" he grinned, holding up to the bottle.

She gave him a look, "I dunno if you _deserve_ it after this morning."

"Would it help if I apologized? And said I only did it because your breasts were so lush and comfortable?" he winked, and found his side jabbed hard. He laughed as he placed a hand over the spot. "Sorry, sorry—I couldn't help myself. I honestly didn't do it on purpose, and I apologize for falling asleep on you last night. I don't even remember much of it."

Catherine paused, wondering if he didn't remember what had been said, too. Her gaze fell. Did he not recall what he'd done then? That he'd given Cristina up—or what she had said? The thought disappointed her, and realizing it did made her cheeks warm even if she knew why she'd thought it.

"It's fine," she replied, reaching over to unscrew the wine and down some of it. She'd finally acquired a taste of sorts, and it _was_ good wine. She bite into the bread next, looking out over the market again. Still the same old same old.

"Sorry I put that all on you. I didn't mean to get like that. I was just, ah… it was a rough night," he chuckled sheepishly as he took the wine and downed some, too. "I didn't mean to take so long, either, but I just… I saw Cristina in the Market, and I just… I had to see her. I guess I hadn't really forgotten her, and I had to talk, but…"

His pause and his pained look made her own heart clench as she finished for him, "She's married."

He sighed, "Yes. Married. It's better for her, though—after all that's happened… this isn't the life for her. She's not like us—certainly not like you. I don't even know if she could have done as well as Claudia. This is better for her. Her husband will be good to her. She will be happy."

_'But will you?' _Catherine asked silently, looking over at him as he stared down at his feet, bottle still in hand. His pain was all too obvious, and she felt a mixture of hurt and shame all at once. She pushed it aside, though, as she grabbed a piece of bread and handed it to him.

"You did the right thing. It'll be okay. It'll hurt… but you move on," she mused, though her gaze had returned to the market.

He took the bread, glancing at her, "You know it, I take it?"

_'He doesn't remember that part,' _she mused, a little surprised she was hurt by that one. Pain about Cristina made sense, but about talking about _that_? She wasn't so sure. "Yeah. I know it. Kind of. We… were never lovers or anything like you and Cristina, though."

"Ah… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a stupid mistake on my part is all. Lesson learned."

He paused, "May I… ask what happened?"

Catherine looked to her feet, chewing slowly, and sighed softly, "Maybe some other time."

"Ah," was all he replied, and then they ate quietly, exchanging the wine between each other. Another time she might have found it weird to share a bottle, but there was no use being squeamish over such little things. Besides, it was _really_ good wine.

After some time, Ezio hummed, "You can head off now, if you'd like. You've been out here long enough, and you want to visit Leonardo, right?"

"Huh?" Catherine hummed before her next gulp, paused to think, and then drank. "Actually, yeah, I wouldn't mind that. Guess we'll trade shifts now. I didn't see any changes or anything different, but, y'know, harder without Vision… so I guess if you notice anything leave me a note or something with Annetta or under my door so I know what to look for, too."

"I can do that. Have fun with Leo—tell him I said 'hello', will you?" Ezio smiled as he took the bottle from her so she could stand up. The redhead stretched, patting off her clothes, and then rolled her shoulders before setting her blade proper.

"Will do. Try to behave tonight, alright?" she hummed, giving him a look, and he chuckled.

"I will not divert this time—promise. I mean it."

Catherine looked down at him; at his small grin. She wanted to believe him. She supposed she did. At the same time, though, she knew he'd technically broken his promise even if he had his reasons. So she only smiled back slightly in return, pulled up her hood, and headed off.

**-O-**

"So, you're getting more popular I see—lot of lords and ladies asking for paintings?" Catherine inquired as she lounged lazily in a chair, watching the artist working on a painting for once. She didn't recognize this piece from her time, but he was actually putting a lot of attention into it—he must have really enjoyed the subject.

"Mm? Oh, yes, yes. I've been commissioned by the Medici, in fact, and I've dabbled in other areas, so I've caught the interest of quite a few parties. It's really helped in my projects—if you noticed, I made quite a few break throughs on my flying machine," Leonardo replied, managing to gesture in the general direction of the contraption. Catherine let her head fall backwards to stare up at and its magnificent wings. It _had_ been improved on quite a bit. She dared to say it was ready to go.

"So I noticed. And I see you have little models of other things—you were busy while I was gone. I almost feel like you don't need me to talk about ideas anymore," she chuckled, leaning on the arm of her chair.

He scoffed, "Nonsense! Even if I did not have need of your presence to speak of such things, I would ask for only your presence. You are my friend, my dear Catherine, and so few appreciate the things I create as you do."

"Well, I am all too happy to please," she snickered before turning the feather in her hand back to the parchment on the table. She was just sketching at the moment, but she had a few things going—mostly just small doodles, but she was filling the page up. So far it was little things of Claudia, Mario, Maria, Ottavio, and even Ezio. Others included little creatures or her characters; things to pass the time as her friend worked.

"So," the artist began, catching her attention, "how goes the hunt?"

She groaned, "Terrible. We don't make for good hunters apparently."

"My condolences. Foxes can be tricky… perhaps it has simply yet to come out of its den?"

"I guess. It's hard to say. I mean, we don't want to _kill_ the fox—we want to make friends with it."

He paused, humming thoughtfully, "Perhaps the fox has simply not decided yet?"

"How does one go earning a fox's trust then? I don't think this one takes meat, and we're short on time," she sighed, slumping slightly.

"I am afraid I am not much help in that then. I would if I could," Leonardo smiled apologetically as he turned towards her, but she waved it off.

"Don't worry—it's better you not get directly involved, anyways. We don't want you in any danger."

"Ah, right…Still, I would rather help more than whispers of things."

She set her quill down, giving him a look, "Leo, you do more than enough. For one, you let us stick around here as much as we want, and you'd shelter us any time. You risk your safety for us—that's more than enough."

"I still wish I could do more."

"Heh, well just keep up your cover, and we'll be fine. And don't worry about us—we got a nice little fancy hole to keep ourselves tucked in… even if it's hard to get any sleep there," she huffed, frowning at the thought of what went on there. She frowned further as she got the odd sensation in her body that always followed when her mind lingered on such things. She quickly pushed it away.

"Ah, yes—the brothel. I imagine it would be hard to sleep," the artist mused as he stepped back from his painting, looked at it, and then set his things down to take a bite of his cheese and bread. "I admit, I am a little surprised you agreed to stay there. I did not see you being so… complacent about it."

"Oh, trust me, it was _not_ my first choice, but I don't exactly have many options here. I don't know anyone besides you, Ezio, Paola, and Annetta, and I doubt even the kinder city folk are going to be so willing to bring in a woman dressed like a man with sword and all," she chuckled as she leaned back, pulling her knees up so her heel dug into the chair to keep her steady.

Leonardo chuckled, "You could stay here then, you know."

"…huh?"

"Oh, yes, yes. I have an extra room I use for nothing but really shoving junk into. It has bedding and all of what you will need."

Catherine chewed her lip slightly, thinking, "Hmm… that… that does sound tempting. I admit… I wouldn't mind getting away from the _thumping_ going around there."

_'Or drunken idiots,' _she added with a silent huff, and was promptly distracted as she found her hands picked up by the artist and squeezed.

"Then it is settled!" Leonardo laughed with delight. "You can stay with me! Oh, it will be most splendid—I will have so much more time to show you things and you can do your own work as much as you like! Although, well... hmm… what about Ezio?"

"What about it?" she inquired, brow raised. She must have been a little harsher than she should have, because the artist returned her question with a quizzical look. She flushed slightly. "He's fine at the brothel. I dare say he enjoys it. He's fine there."

"Well, I suppose he will have to. I do only have the one extra bed."

"Yeah, he's definitely staying there. Like hell he's cuddling up to me," she grunted, scowling, yet Leonardo only laughed lightly.

"Trouble brewing between you two, I take it?" he smiled almost mischievously.

"Not… exactly? Just… him being dumb. Anyways, so it's okay if I stay here?"

"Of course! I will make sure the room is properly made before you rest tonight, and my assistant will have breakfast ready when you are—he is quite useful."

"Ah, look at you; Mr. Boss-man. Giving orders and such. Must feel good," she teased, eliciting a quick grin in return.

"A little. Ah, but, please, continue to enjoy yourself while I finish my work for the night. A few more hours should be all I need," Leonardo hummed as he took up his tools of trade and began again.

"Take all the time you need. Oh, and I guess don't freak out if Ezio comes knocking, wondering where I am. He might do that—and don't get suckered in to his puppy face. I am _not_ sharing a bed with him."

Again, the artist raised a brow at her and grinned as if up to something, but he said nothing in return. Catherine gave him a look back, but no words came of it, and Leonardo returned to his work. The redhead watched him a few minutes more, trying to figure out what he was up to, but ultimately resumed her doodling. Briefly, her mind went to the thought of Ezio trying to swindle his way into staying, too, and her memory flickered to how they had been this morning and how she'd like it—and then she promptly shoved it away with burning cheeks. It hadn't meant anything at all, and he'd ruined the moment anyways. She didn't need him groping her while she slept, so he could just bugger off.

Of course, even as she told herself that, she couldn't help wanting the opposite—just a little.

**-O-**

**April 25, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

"So how was staying with Leonardo?"

Catherine looked away from the market to where Ezio sat across from her, munching on their dinner. She had to suppress a grin at the annoyance hidden in his tone. Besides the fact she knew how he looked when he was pretending to not be annoyed, she knew he was because of last night. Oh, the young man had been very surprised, and even a little upset to learn that she wouldn't be coming back to the brothel. At first he'd apologized, thinking he had offended her, although he honestly hadn't and she told him as such. She explained it was just the noise, really, and he'd made a pout while trying to tease her, but she was adamant in her position to stay. He'd _tried_ to smooth his way into staying, too, but she knew him well enough to know when he was trying that, so she'd promptly denied him, and he'd left with a pout. She just assumed he was upset to not have her around to tease or try and spend the night with, though she did hold on to a tiny whisper that he was legitimately upset that she didn't want to come back with him. She didn't say so, though, and only asked the young man to give Annetta her apologies and that she'd come for dinner or something.

Considering the basket full of more goods than usual, Annetta didn't seem to mind and was saying to not worry about coming for dinner. Whatever the case, the two of them were able to enjoy a fine dinner, which was a great uplift to yet another day of absolutely nothing to show for. She'd seen maybe a few thieves who had noticed her, too, but no one made any moves. It was almost like a mutual respect, although she'd seen one scamper off to God knows where. She considered following, but the thief was smaller, more nimble, and damn fast. She was too far back to really keep up, and the other thieves could cause trouble. So she let them be and went back to watching, though kept an eye on the group until they vanished about an hour ago. She'd told Ezio, of course, and he hummed thoughtfully, mentioning he'd watch out for them, too—maybe even do some ground work today since watching from above was doing nothing. It was more dangerous, but it might be their only way.

"It was nice. A _lot_ less noise," she mused a bit wryly, working still to hide her grin. A quick glance showed her a pout that made it impossible to withhold her expression. "Oh, don't be so glum, you big baby."

"I am _not_ a baby!" he barked, giving her a quick glare and biting off a piece of dried meat.

"Uh-huh. Well, I said it wasn't because of you I left—I just don't enjoy hearing people fucking all night long and banging on the walls," she mused, giving him a slight look, but he only rolled his eyes.

"It's not _that_ bad."

She made a coo sound, "Aww… you miss me that badly, little Auditore?"

"Your absence is rather apparent," he mused. "But I suppose I will just endure."

"Indeed. Although I would have thought you would enjoy staying there without a pair of eyes hawking you all the time… unless Annetta's been making up for me?" she inquired, brow waggling. Ezio made an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes again. Catherine laughed, realizing the maid was probably actually doing just that. She snickered as she took another sip of wine, finished her bread and meat, and stood up to brush herself off. "Well, if it _eases_ your sorrow, I'll probably end up sleeping there the day we leave. Although, I don't see why you're pouting—you're not getting in my room again. You ruined your chances, remember?"

"I said I was sorry," he pouted, but then shrugged it off as he looked up at him. "Tell him I said 'hello' as always. I'll try and visit tonight, but if there's trouble I won't."

Catherine stepped closer and touched his shoulder, "Stay safe, okay? And I really did leave because of the noise—not you."

He smiled a little, "I know."

She squeezed through the leather, pulled up her hood, and headed off. It was a quick trip to Leonardo's so she was there soon enough. A simple knock and she was inside, and then it was back to work. The artist was still working on his painting and she lounged or helped his assistant with things if need be. She briefly went to her room to rest, but then she was back out in the main area talking with her friend. Once his assistant was gone they were able to discuss the more intimate and secretive things, updating him on their search, and wondering if there had been any unusual signs of things coming here. There were none to be had, and so they teetered off into the usual talk they had. There was one small deviation, as Leonardo looked through a crate of supplies and found a thing of leather and metal.

"Ah! Catherine, I almost forgot—the supplies I asked for came in this morning," he beamed as he brought the material over. When she raised a confused brow he laughed and motioned to her arm. "Your second blade. Remember how I said would make you one as well?"

"Oh! Oh, jeez, Leo, you don't honestly need to. I have my sword, and already have a bracer," she waved him away, but he was stubborn as he put his hand on his hips.

"I said I would and so I will. If you wish to keep your bracer, I can find a way to attach it to there. Besides, will you always be able to use your sword in battle? And what if there are two guards you must deal with silently? Two blades will be better."

Catherine groaned, head lolling back, but then watched Leonardo for a moment before sighing and nodding, "Alright. I'll let you make it. Here."

With a bit of jiggering she got her bracer free and handed it to him. A bright smile was on his face as he set the supplies down and began to inspect her armor.

"Mmm… it may take a while to adjust and make it work, but it will still fit and I _will_ succeed. It may be awfully dull around here until I am done," he grinned sheepishly, causing her to chuckle.

"I'll just take a walk then. Do you need any more supplies while you're out? I can buy them for you."

"I have everything I need, so enjoy your stroll. Just be safe—the guards are no longer kind. The city has been become so dangerous lately, too."

She smiled as she slipped her cloak over her gear, fastening the tie, "I'll be careful. Ezio and I pretty much figured out where they are, and I know how to blend. If I do get into trouble, I won't be coming back here, but I'll send word to you if that happens, okay?"

His expression darkened some, but he nodded, "Of course. I'll make it like you were never here."

"You're amazing," she grinned, tipped her hood at him, and then headed off.

The sky was becoming dark, the sun almost set. Good. The darkness would conceal her better, and she could explore more easily. Her cloak helped immensely with that, too, by hiding her features and her sword. Oh, if one looked close enough they could see she was a woman, but people were generally too busy for that or just didn't care for a person who walked like they belong. She thanked God she had that ability down. It made things so much easier, and gave her the time she needed to think about things. Mostly, about what the hell they were doing, and if it was the right path. How could they even know? Couldn't they at least have a sign or something?

_'Wait,'_ the redhead thought suddenly, stopping short. The image of the Clock flickered to her mind, and she shuffled into her pocket to pull it out. Wasn't this her source of signs? Yet, it had been fairly quiet as of late. What did that mean? Was this the right way, or the wrong one? Would it "show" her the right way if they went wrong, or how did it work? She really wished the damned "god" would have told her more than what it did, but whoever he was, he was a piece of shit and confusing as all hell. Why couldn't she be allowed to access the knowledge at any time? She didn't need the God-tier powers—she shuddered at the memory of what she had done again—but the knowledge would have been useful.

"Can't ever be a help except at the last second, can you?" she hissed, glaring daggers at it, but the object was cold and unmoving. She shook her head as she made to put it back—just as something heavy and very human tripped into her. She grunted as she was shoved into the near wall, the other person falling and rolling with a grunt. She made a growl and looked to chastise the person—a young man in rags, she realized—but he was already racing off. It was then she noticed a lack of weight in her hand. She looked down, and the Clock was gone. Her heart sky-rocketed with panic—and confusion. The Clock wasn't burning the young man, but it had a mechanism to ensure it would never be taken from her. Unless—did that mean it would come back to her? Was she supposed to follow, or was it defunct?

Either way, she had to catch the man.

Cursing, she took off after the thief, whom picked up speed. He was a fast little cretin, but he also wasn't weighed down by gear. A part of her lamented bringing her weapons, but she knew it was a necessary precaution, so she only pumped her legs. It wasn't enough to catch him, of course, but it did keep her close enough she was able to follow him into the alleyways and towards a ladder to a low roof. She raced up after him, pausing only to see where he'd gone, and then began to leap after him. He was starting to slow, she noticed; possibly not used to leaps. Indeed, she saw him hesitate over one jump that she blew over with ease, and that was all that was needed to start gaining on him.

There. With a final leap, Catherine lunged, tackling the man. He yelped as they rolled, throwing her off, but then she grabbed his shirt to keep him in place. She dug a knee into his gut as well, and then whipped her arm to her belt to free a throwing knife. She made to whip it back around, but just as she reached the peak of her arch, a firm, but bony hand latched around her wrist like a vice and stopped her. She kept her hold on the man beneath her as she looked up sharply at her new enemy, but found a familiar face. Sort of. She _knew_ she knew the man standing above her, with his fox-like features, but it must have been long ago. His gaze was fierce beneath his hood, but she thought only to ensure she did not harm the thief beneath her.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you spare my young apprentice. He meant no ill will by stealing your trinket," the man spoke, his voice charming, yet the seriousness was lingering there underneath. She knew his voice, too. She'd heard it before, and because of that she stood up, lowering her arm, and the older man released her wrist. The "apprentice" stood up shakily, looking between them. His teacher held out his hand, and the thief quickly gave him the Clock, which was then held out to Catherine. "I believe this is yours. Again, my apologies. I only wished to invite you for a visit."

"You could have just asked," she mused, watching him carefully as she reached for the Clock. When her hand touched his, he grasped it. Her heart raced a little, but she didn't feel she was in danger; just unsure.

He smiled some, "A fox does not ask for anything."

"So he steals instead—to lure his prey," she mused, knowing exactly who he was now, though still not sure where'd she seen him before as he released her hand.

"No, not prey… an ally. A wolf," he mused, and she raised a brow. He chuckled, waving the other thief away. "Yes, I know who you are, my dear. It is my duty to know everything in this city—especially when I have the honor of meeting someone for a third time."

'_Third time?' _she frowned, going through her memories of this place. Nostalgia came over her as she stood there and looked down at her Clock. The sight of it kicked her memory—and she swore there was a flicker of warmth—and she recalled. "You… you were… the man that one time… and you… you were… Giovanni's ally—the one in the crowd."

"Indeed I was, and it seems I am to be _your_ ally now. Already I have helped his son," he replied, and then helped up his hand for peace when she looked at him sharply. "Ezio is alright. I simply directed him on the right course. If he is even half what his father was, he will excel, and I will ensure he returns to you when he has done."

"You won't say where he is so I can go help?"

"Call it a… test for him—to see if a fox will risk his fur," the man smiled, and the redhead was stuck between liking and hating him for it. She could see the why, and she knew Ezio could do it, but still; she would rather be there to help.

"So what's my test then?" she mused, slipping her Clock into her pocket as she folded her arms.

"No test—I only thought to see just what was it that called for Giovanni's interest. I think you have quite excelled his expectations already. Certainly you are very different from before, although… this was not what he intended was it?" La Volpe mused, rubbing his chin with that grin still on his face.

She frowned a little, not sure whether that was in insult or not, "No… I guess not, but what do you know of it?"

"As I said, it is my duty to know everything in this city, and that was no different when Giovanni protected these streets and did as you are doing. Only, you are a curiosity. You came out of nowhere, and Giovanni claimed you are 'special'—though I wonder if he truly meant you… or your trinket?"

Her eyes narrowed, suddenly not sure if this fox was an ally or not. He noticed of course, and laughed lightly as he walked forward slightly, hands lifted in surrender. She was hardly at ease.

"I mean no harm or insult or worse. I am merely a man of knowledge—and of great curiosity."

"Well, you are a fox," she hummed, earning a chuckle from him.

"Indeed I am… so tell me; are you as special as Giovanni thought? A fox just might find that _very _interesting and worth helping a wolf with."

She paused, thinking; choosing her words, "Truth be told… I don't know what Giovanni really thought of me. He was probably right in whatever it was."

"Hmm," La Volpe rumble, rubbing his chin. "Then… do _you_ think you are special?"

Again, she paused, frowning and trying to understand, "I… I think I'm just… trying to keep the people I love safe, and stop those who would harm them."

La Volpe was quiet for a long while, watching her. She watched right back, making note of his orange, almost slightly gaudy, skin-tight tunic. His shoes were a bit scuff and he looked a little like Robin Hood from the old, cheesy movies. He was a proper thief, though, and yet—if she was hearing right, then he was almost like that. Only, he traded more-so in information, but coin was always something that came in, she assumed. He was definitely older than her and Ezio; perhaps around Giovanni's age, though he was thinner in his features and lighter in step if she had to guess.

"I think this fox may be willing to help, my dear Lady," he suddenly spoke, grinning, and she relaxed just a little.

"Uh… well, um… thanks… how, though?" she inquired, eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't you already help Ezio, anyways?"

"I think we can help a great deal more. You have… facilities in your city—unoccupied homes, no?" he inquired, to which she nodded. "Well, what better way to ensure an alliance than to send some of my best men to you? You will find having a group of thieves—a guild, of sorts—will prove useful. They find information far better than any scouts you might have—no offense, of course, but Marios' men are not as inconspicuous as he would like."

Catherine opened her mouth to retort that, but now that she considered it, Mario's "scouts" were just other warriors. What information they had was generally because they were integrated into the society already and were able to move about. However, it was obvious la Volpe's men had a far greater amount of movement—and they were faster. More agile. They could get where the warriors couldn't. Still, there were some concerns.

"How can we trust you not to steal our hard-earned coin?" she replied, eyes narrowed. She supposed that might be considered an insult, but the man just smiled, eyes brightening some.

"You will simply have to trust a fox and his kin…. And know that a Thief's honor is just as good as a Mercenary's—or even a courtesan's," he mused, again causing her confusion. He knew about them? Their staying with them? And what did he mean when he said it like that? Had Giovanni been involved with them—was that how Paola knew him, and not just Annetta? Great. Now she had too many questions, but La Volpe didn't look like he would answer in the way he grinned mischievously. "Shall I take your silence as agreement?"

"…No—not agreement… per say," she rumbled, giving him a slight look. "It's not my decision to make, anyways. You'd have to ask Mario. He leads _Monteriggioni_."

"Mmm… indeed he does. Very well. I shall send word to him, and let us hope we might become great allies. It would do you well to have the information network I can provide."

She paused, watching him, "And what do _you_ gain?"

His grin widened some, "Let us say we also wish for a city safe from those people who would cause those we love harm."

"But you don't want to be noticed," she hummed, but he only chuckled. So, that was his game. He wasn't a bad person per say—Giovanni wouldn't have allied with him if he wasn't, she figured—but he was also looking out for his own. In the end, she couldn't fault him. She and Ezio were just pawns in his game, and while she didn't like the notion, he knew how to play it better. If she even tried to take some lead, he would get at least ten steps ahead and run circles around her. No, this was better left to Mario until she was able to play these games on her own—if she ever could.

"If you've no more questions, I will let you return to your walk, and I will see to your friend. Shall I send him to the da Vinci residence?" La Volpe inquired as he made towards the edge.

"…Yes. Bur if he comes back hurt…"

"You need not worry, my dear Lady. Ezio is an Auditore, and I do not think you believe he will come back harmed. Now take care of yourself. I suspect Mario would not appreciate his two favorites harmed under my watch," he chuckled, and then he was gone.

Catherine watched him go over the edge, and despite his assurance, she felt unease. It was probably just her paranoia, and the Clock wasn't giving her any warnings, but his dancing around everything put her off. She hoped it was just because they didn't trust each other—and they might never—but still. Yet, there was nothing to be done. The fox had made his decision, and it did seem they had allies now. She only hoped that it would stay that way.

**-O-**

Catherine chewed her lip anxiously as she waited for Ezio, knee bouncing up and down, and fingers tapping restlessly. It had been almost an hour or so since she'd spoken with La Volpe and darkness had engulfed the city, but he wasn't back yet. She didn't necessarily think the man had been lying, but what _if_ Ezio had gotten hurt? Where had he even gone? She'd been given no answers, and it made her worry. She chastised herself, too, realizing she should have stayed with Ezio. Neither of them should have split up their search times. They should have stuck together, and now she was stuck, waiting and wrought with worry for him. Leonardo had tried to comfort her, but that did no good. Her new hidden blade was not yet finished, either, so she didn't have that to occupy herself. No, only anxiousness was her friend tonight, and it was hungry.

"Catherine, I am heading to bed—I must be up early for business and to work more on your blade. Here, I brought you an extra candle," the artist spoke up in the darkened shop, the fireplace the main light. She was in a far corner, though, one candle serving as her source while the fireplace's illumination was dulled for her. The added candle gave more light, though it wavered as she sighed.

"Thanks. Go ahead and sleep. I'm going to stay up to wait for Ezio," she explained, leaning on the table to set her chin in her palm. The artist smiled sadly and grasped her shoulder.

"He'll come. Just be patient and have faith."

She smiled back, "I'll try. Go sleep now, alright?"

Leonardo squeezed and then departed with his own candle, leaving her be. Catherine sighed again and looked to the door. It did not move and no knock came, so she looked back to the parchment beneath her. More doodles adorned it, though she had one detailed picture of Ezio going on. He had a serious, yet almost playful look to him, and her chest tightened with worry over what wrong he might be enduring. It was as the artist said, though; she had to be patient and have faith.

That didn't mean it was easy.

She was tired, too, which made it worse. The events of the day had left her more exhausted than she thought, and keeping awake was hard. Her eyes were heavy and she'd been yawning. Already she felt her head sagging with just her change of position, and she just wished Ezio would come back already. She wanted to know he was alright, and whether or not she needed to really hunt a fox. She imagined she would never find him unless he wanted, but she would try. Oh, she would try. For now, though, she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And started to nod off. She jerked awake the first time. Blinked awake the third. The fourth time her arm slipped and caught herself on the table. She groaned as she just lay her arms flat and set her head there, and dozed off. She vaguely noted she kept losing consciousness and counted the time by the growing wax on the candle; each slip getting longer and longer, and deeper and deeper. As such, she did not hear the soft knock or the door open or sense the young man standing beside her, watching her silently. She did not feel his fingers move the parchments, eyes roving at the images and especially one that was familiar. She did not see him smile or how a softness came over his features when he looked at her.

She did, however, feel his hand on her shoulder, and she jolted away. She was ready to lash out, but stopped when she saw it was Ezio, alive and whole and laughing lightly. She flushed as she rubbed at her face and eyes to get the sleep away.

"Sorry—I dozed off and didn't hear you come in—are you okay? Where were you, anyways? The La Volpe guy said he sent you somewhere and you were fine and all but—."

"You met La Volpe?" he asked, blinking with surprise. She returned it, but then nodded.

"Um, yeah. He met with me. Talked about alliances. I can tell you later—what happened with you? You were gone a long time."

"I found Francesco—and more."

Catherine paused, taking the notion in, and then she was up immediately, eyes wide, "What!?"

He held up his hand, "I went through an Assassin tomb and discovered them in the depths. The Spaniard was there along with Francesco, Jacopo, and many others—all working together. They plan to attack the Medici at the _Duomo_ tomorrow morning."

"_What_?! _Tomorrow_!? Shit! That's not enough time to prepare anything!" the redhead rasped, running a hand through her hair.

"I know, and if we don't stop it, the Pazzi will put themselves into power and destroy this city. We have to protect the Medici at all cost."

"You have an idea?"

He frowned, but nodded, "I think. Sort of. There will be a large crowd there—we can blend through them and get close. I don't know when exactly they will attack, but it won't just be on the main family, but their allies. The Pazzi plan to take the city."

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck this is bad. We have to stop them as quickly as possible!" she hissed, pacing some. "If we can cut off the head, the rest will fail… we need to get Mario's men on this-prepare them. Do you remember where the contact is?"

"Yeah. We'll need them for sure. We'll need to be close to the _Duomo_, too—so we can get there as soon as possible. The _Plucked Rose_ is too far."

"Leo's is close—we'll have to stay here. But first we need to contact the mercenaries and prepare them. Can we contact the Medici at all?"

He shook his head, "No. They're too guarded, and I doubt they would believe us."

"Then we've got not time to lose."

"Indeed. Although—you're sure you'll let me stay?" he grinned suddenly, and she had to pause and stare at him before smacking his chest.

"Are you seriously making jokes right now!? Ezio, come on!" she huffed, although she did grin a little.

"Sorry—I couldn't help myself," he snickered and motioned to the door.

"Well, keep it under control. We have work to do."

He grinned just a little, nodding, "And let us pray we will not be too late."

There was nothing more to stay, and with time against them, the two hurried out into the night to prepare for the fight to come.

* * *

**33** _– End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_So it's time for some big stuff, guys! The attack on Lorenzo is about to happen, and new allies have been made! Sadly, 'Cat doesn't get to go on the tomb run, but she doesn't go everywhere with him. ;p_

_Oh, and hoped you enjoyed the beginning. I mean, did any of you doubt Ezio **wouldn't** take advantage of it-just a little? ;) Also, never, ever, go against the wrath of Annetta and her spoon. Anyways, soo... yeah. Stuff's gone on here-mostly build up and working along with things. Next chapter will be pretty long, as usually happens with my fight scenes, so except a lot of fun next chapter! It's time to take out some Templars, wooooo!_


	35. 34 - Heads Will Roll

**TMWolf: **_Time for an update guys! Finished up Syndicate, so I had plenty of time to work on this. Also, Syndicate is great! I definitely recommend getting it, AC fans :) Also: Evie is like... over the top badass lol. She uses WWE moves in fight club. It's awesome. Jacob is adorkable, but sometimes I want to throttle him. They're fantastic. Anyways! So, it's the big fight chapter, yaaaaaaaaay! Oddly not as long as Vieri's, but a fight none the less :'D_

_Right, so reviews-no guest ones so no worries on that~ As always, thank-you soooooooooo much for your words! They always mean a lot and I'm always happy to get them, so please, any comments/questions/notes/etc just let them at me! :)_

_So this chapter's song is Yeah Yeah Yeah's - Heads Will Roll. Nothing lyric-wise to do with the chapter, but the title worked great xD_

_Whelp, on to the show!_

* * *

**34 **– _Heads Will Roll_

* * *

**April 25, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

"Catherine."

The redhead shot up when she felt the hand on her shoulder, shaking her some. She blinked slowly, rubbing at her face, and feeling the weight in her bones. She groaned softly, trying to remember where she was. There was a familiar chuckle and she looked up to find Ezio standing beside her while she was semi-slouched over on Leonardo's table with all her drawings. She looked to his clock, which read almost two in the morning, and then looked to the dim, flickering flame of the fireplace, which sorely needed more wood. She turned her gaze up to the young man then, noticing he seemed tired, too—or at least the droop in his features said so.

She rubbed her eyes some more, "Sorry—I didn't hear you come in. I was uh…"

"Tired?" he finished, grinning, and she nodded.

"Yeah. Sorry… so um... you found La Volpe?"

He nodded, "Yes. I told him of our plan. He says he will keep an eye out for things, although his men are not exactly soldiers like the mercenaries. Still, they will try to find us the best paths and give warning when the enemy is close. They will also help distract guards if they can or when we call on them, but if they feel there is too much danger, they will flee."

"No, yeah, that's fine. As long as we have that extra help. Paola we'd have to use for after-after when things had died down, so hopefully that one girl got to her already. So that means…" Catherine rumbled, though paused as she frowned, thinking. "I… I think we got everyone. Yeah. I got the mercenaries ready and waiting, you got the Thieves, and we got a message to Paola. I think we're all set here now, yeah?"

"I… think so. There's not much else besides getting there," Ezio hummed replied. "It will start in a few hours—we should get rest… or, well, you should get more. I didn't want to wake you, but…"

"No, no, no—it was good to tell me. I needed to know for tomorrow. Anyways, yeah, need to sleep. 'Specially you," she mumbled, rubbing her face when her headed nodded briefly. She stood up to clear more of the wariness, but staggered a little. Ezio chuckled yet again as he gave her his arm to brace on. He tilted his head slightly, smiling with amusement.

"Here, let me carry you."

She made a sloppy attempt of a huff, though didn't move, "I can make it… maybe…"

"Free of charge?" he offered, causing her to pause and bite her lip. She knew she probably could make it, albeit stumbling along, but at the same time, it was oh so tempting.

"…Piggyback."

His brows scrunched, "What?"

"Carry me piggyback. Turn around, I'll wrap around you from behind—you did it for Petruccio before," she mused, and he laughed lightly as he agreed to it. He called her a silly woman, too, but she let that slide as he did as she bid, turning around so his back was to her. He crouched low so she could set her legs and arms in place, wrapping around when he stood and hooked his arms under her thighs. She set her head on his back some, closing her heavy eyelids.

"Room's… down hall… on the right."

"Yes, my Lady," he snickered playfully, though waited a moment to blow out candles as he went, but left the fireplace alone. It would burn itself out soon enough, and was too low to be a danger. He made for the hallway then, and it was while he walked that a notion came to Catherine.

"…Paola's is too far away," she mumbled, and he made an "hmm", head tilting back towards her slightly. She lifted her head slightly so he could hear better, "Paola's is pretty far from the _Duomo_."

He paused, "…It is. But I can make it if I wake early."

He kept moving, and Catherine's mind went along with it. She didn't let him go too long—he was a little slow to make sure she wasn't jostled—before she spoke again.

"You, um… you can sleep here tonight."

He stopped, tilting his head towards her again, "Are you… certain? I thought you left Paola's—."

"I told you that wasn't you. I didn't go because of you," she mumbled back, though kept her face hidden some. A small smile appeared on his mug as he moved yet again, coming to the door. "So… you can stay here to sleep—but no funny business."

"I swear on the Auditore name: no funny business," he chuckled softly as he managed to get the door open and then made the rest of the distance to the bed. There he let her slip off and lie flat, eyes already closed. She honestly was tired after everything and for even what was to come. She managed to stay awake and open her eyes when she heard the young man make a chuckle. He smirked down a little at her, "We won't fit so well if you lie like that."

"Gunna… lie how I… want," she grumbled, but rolled so she was set properly; head on the pillow and legs by the other end. "Just… go other side. Or floor. Whatever. No touchy."

"Not going to change?" he mused, still with a wry tone, as he pulled off his weapons and set them down somewhere. It was dark so she couldn't properly see, but his stupid Vision gave him that advantage. She had already taken hers off some time ago, although her leather armor was still on—habit, really, and the notion of feeling less without it.

"No time… morning. Shush."

He laughed lightly a final time as he moved to the other side and settled down, slinking under the covers. She made a slight sigh as she blearily did the same, managing to remember to kick off her boots at the same time. She kept her back to him, and she was surprised when he made no more comments or any teases or playful touching to rile her up. It was enough to wake her some, and she turned over slowly as her eyes adjusted to the blackness enough to make him out. He was lying flat, his eyes shut and face set in an oddly serene way. His bangs fell over his face some, and his ponytail was smashed against his neck over his hood. She watched for undoubtedly too long, her heart beating a little fast as the urge to reach out to him came over her. She kept her hands close, though, tempering any desires—they were foolish to begin with—and only smiled as she closed her eyes again. They needed their rest after all. A battle was coming tomorrow, and the blue sky would be flushed with red.

**-O-**

**April 26, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine quickly grasped her ponytail and wrapped it around itself, tucking it into the band used to hold the rest. It was thankfully tight enough for the job, although not quite up to her old hair tie's strength. That done, she pulled her hood over her face, adjusted her gear, and then looked over to Ezio, who had finished the same. They were staying back from the entry way they had chosen to the open area before the _Duomo_, waiting until it was closer to time. While they had not been recognized by any guards nor were there wanted posters, they still needed to keep their faces hidden as much as possible. Thankfully, their concealment was the last of the things they needed done. With the rest taken care of earlier today—making sure Leonardo kept low and their allies were in place—they could safely continue on.

"Ready?" Ezio asked, touching her arm briefly. She looked to the entryway where a large crowd had gathered. Already the noise was almost deafening and every so often bells would chime. They had seen guards in red appear here and there, but also those in orange—those allied with the Medici. Their mercenaries had set up around the area rather than arouse suspicion by being too close. The thieves they had seen nothing of, but there was a courtesan who had given them a knowing look; silently saying they would have sanctuary with them. By all means, the coming battle was prepared for, but then again, when was anyone prepared for a battle? The knot in her stomach told her otherwise, and she thought she could feel the Clock warming sometimes or that it gave her a sensation. It only made things worse, and she was beginning to dread today.

They had a mission, though. Evil was to be done here this morning, and it was their duty to stop it.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking to him again, and that was it. It was time to begin.

They slipped through the entry way, and then spread out some. While the crowd would conceal them, it was better to not take the chance. Also, it allowed them to cover more ground to see where the enemy was coming from and rush in from both sides to protect the Medici if need be. Catherine was double glad for her cloak to hide her form, although most everyone was too busy focusing on the mass and their conversation with each other to really take note of her. It did help hide her weapons, though, and she kept a secret grip on her hilt; hoping it made her ready for anything. Unfortunately, she had an idea it wouldn't be enough—at least, not enough to stop all the evil this day.

Catherine paused as a bell chimed and a murmur came through the crowd. Faces turned, and she followed them. Ezio wasn't too far away on her left, and she saw him looking as well. She moved a bit closer to peer through, and saw a congregation of people coming through. They were dressed far more elegantly than anyone else here—especially the man leading them behind a group of guards and priests cloaked in black. He even wore an elegant and grand assortment of jewels, and he carried himself with an air of regality. Another man and woman walked behind them some steps away, not quite as magnificent, but still carrying the similar air. They _had_ to be the Medici.

The redhead moved through the crowd quickly, reaching Ezio. She could sense at once that he was tense, and when he glanced back at her she knew they were the ones to be protected. He looked around, as did she, but nothing seemed amiss.

"That's Lorenzo's brother there, but where is Francesco…?" he asked allowed. Certainly, the man didn't appear to be in sight. Catherine frowned. Where were they? What were they up to? Her hand tightened around her sheath, and she nearly drew her blade as a loud shout came from the distance. She spun, as did a few of the crowd, but no one seemed able to tell where it came from. Briefly, she thought she saw figures scurrying over the roofs, and looked down from where they were.

"Ezio!" she hissed, pointing. Two figures were pushing through the crowd, and it was not with the intent to just get closer for a view. That, and both of them recognized one of the faces. It was, without doubt, Francesco de' Pazzi, and he was aimed for the nearest of the Medici: Lorenzo's brother. They were too close, though, and she and Ezio too far away. The Pazzi and the man in red with him pounced upon the brother, calling him a traitor. They brought out their knife and struck; spraying blood across the stone tiles. Screams rang out, and soon drowned out all other sound. Another came from the _Duomo_ as Lorenzo himself was attacked by a priest.

"I will keep Lorenzo alive!" Ezio barked, heading straight for the man. "Help his brother!"

He didn't need to tell her twice; she was already moving. She tore her cape free as she drew her blade. The crowd rushed by her in a panicked frenzy as the brother was beset upon, though doing all he could to fend them off. Red guards surged through the gates as orange came to meet them, but they were outnumbered. Catherine rushed forward through it all, and was almost there. She would be able to make it—the brother had shoved his assailants away enough to where she could attack the man in red and then Francesco!

Pain shot through her entire body and suddenly the world changed. Bodies changed to streams of light set against a dark background. She was the only one different, but unlike before, she could not move; the pain, while not necessarily damaging, kept her from doing so. She was frozen in place, though she could groan and curse. The Clock felt as though it was burning through her pocket. Why, though? Why had it activated? What was going on? She tried to fight it, but moving forward was near impossible and the pain flared at just the thought.

**You cannot undo what must be. **

The voice was not like usual, and when she looked the ethereal man was not there. His words had echoed in her mind, and they burned as hot as the Clock. Realization of what it meant was worse. Lorenzo's brother—Giuliano, the Clock told her—was to die. It was his fate, and she could not change it. She was not strong enough to change it. The Clock was meant to be used by her, but she had no free will of it. The ethereal man's words had been a joke. She wasn't using it—it was using her, and the thought terrified and enraged her. Why did he deserve to die? Why could she not save him? Was it so wrong?! It wasn't right, yet no matter how much she struggled, she could not move forward. The Clock held her back.

**Maintain the timeline.**

The world returned to normal in a flash. She gasped as her body staggered and fell, almost causing her blade to leave her hand. She caught herself on one knee as the pain vanished, though the remnants remained in waves of echoes that grew smaller and smaller with each split second that went by. When she was at last able to lift her head she saw her efforts were, as the tool had wanted, in vain; Giuliano briefly defended himself against Francesco and the red man, but then a knife caught his neck and he fell with a short yelp. He tried to crawl as she made to rise, but the weight was still there; still keeping her from saving him. The man cried for mercy as he saw his death in the face of Francesco de' Pazzi, whom stood over him like a starved beast desperate for blood.

"No mercy for you, dog! Die! DIE!" he howled as he stabbed the man in the chest, and the life left Giuliano. It was only then that the weight on her vanished, and Catherine found her strength again. It was too late, though. The brother was dead—stabbed so much his body lay in a pool of his own blood with the weapon shoved into his chest. He stared at the sky, a silent scream etched into his features. He was gone, and Catherine could only snarl as she slashed her blade at the man in red. He yelped in fear as the blade cut into his belly. It was only a small wound, though, and he turn and ran like the damned coward he was. Guards covered his retreat, keeping her at bay, though Catherine was relieved to see some of their mercenaries had joined the fight—the sounds of battle calling to them—and attacked some of them. They were helping the guards in red fight off their enemy, and so she turned her attention to Francesco.

"You insolent bitch! Do not get in our way!" he snarled, drawing his blade. She could tell by his stance he was trained—no doubt more than her, but she had far more up her sleeve.

"Don't get cocky, you piece of shit! We killed your son—we can certainly kill you!" she spat right back, but if it had stirred any anger in him, he did not show it. He only made to her attack her, swinging downward. She dodged and made a thrust, which struck his cape, but only tore through the material when he moved away. He sneered at her, and they exchanged blows. He had more strength than she thought, causing her some concern, but she put him on the ropes as well. He was more conniving than she gave him credit, however, and when she thought she had thrown off his guard and move to strike, he slammed his fist into her face. She yelped as she fell and went rolling, but was up in an instant.

"Guards! Quickly—finish her off!" he howled, though not out of fear. Rather, he used his new allies to engage her while he raced off towards Lorenzo. She could see white near him; Ezio was dealing with guards—as was Lorenzo, whom had drawn his sword. Briefly, she heard the Pazzi claiming he would end the Medici today, but then her attention was taken by the guards. There was, thankfully, only three, but that wasn't necessarily easy. She glared as she spat a bit of blood on the ground, letting them smirk and snicker as if she were some weak, mewling quim. Maybe she wasn't necessarily as strong as them, but she could damn well hold her on.

She decided not to let them have their chance—not when one brother remained. The Clock didn't seem worried, remaining silent, so perhaps she was not needed. However, even if she was she couldn't get over there. She had her own problems, and began to deal with them by using her free hand to snatch out a throwing knife and sink it into the nearest man's shoulder. He yelped, and then howled in pain as she shot forward and sliced clean across his chest. He fell back, clutching at the gaping wound. The other two men stared, flabbergasted, but only for a moment. She only managed to knock the second man off his guard before they regained themselves, and she was put back on the defensive. She released her hidden blade, using it as a second guard. Leonardo had not yet finished tweaking her other one—still making sure it would fit her bracer as needed and he had to handle clients as well—so she only had the one to use. It did its work, though, and she used it to stab one of the men in the arm. It forced him to drop his sword. She slashed him across the leg before having to roll to dodge the other man's blade. She was up on her feet quickly enough, but just as she did, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She spun around, swinging her blade up, and just barely managed to block a mace aimed for her head. The force of it and her unpreparedness sent her to the ground, her blade thrown from her grip and spun too far away to grab. She moved to scramble for it, but was stopped short when a blade sliced into her left arm, eliciting a scream from her. It was on the outside, but the cut had gone deep, and blood gushed forth. It wasn't life-threatening, but her sleeve was stained red and the pain was intense. She had not yet suffered an injury this bad. She was extremely glad she had not.

"Kill her now!" the guard she's sliced at the leg snarled, and she looked up at the one who had stabbed her. He was fully intent on doing as his fellow man suggested, and for the second time in a fight she froze. Her heart hammered faster than it ever had, and real fear flooded her veins. She grew ice cold, and she was afraid. She was afraid of what was to come. She was afraid to die—to lose her only chance of going home. To fail her mission. To fail Mario. To never see those she loved again. To lose them all. And most of all—to cause Ezio pain. She feared that above all and she prayed for a miracle.

It came in the form of a flare of heat and a pulse. She recognized it properly this time, and the world changed a second time that day. However, the only pain was the one from her wound, and the stop in time had come just when it was needed. The man had lifted his blade to strike her down, but now he was still and silent, and made of light. She could make out his features still as she staggered up. She grabbed her blade and returned to them, though did not move right away. Instead, she used her hurt arm to pull the Clock out, felt it giving of warm pulses. It had protected her—kept her safe. One of the programs, wasn't it? It was made to ensure she could do her task, and she supposed that involved saving her life and giving her the power to stay alive.

She looked to the men, grasping her blade. Deep down, she knew they had to die. They were the enemy; they killed for the sake of their masters whose machinations spelled danger for humanity. Yet, she regretted this. She supposed that was silly now when she had killed countless before. Then again, she had killed the others of her own violation—not with the help of the power of a God. It just felt wrong to have to use it, but she knew she would be dead without it. She would have a blade stuck in her chest, bleeding out as Ezio watched in horror and was filled with despair. She didn't dare imagine how he would really react or what would become of him if she perished, and so she swallowed the guilt and regret she felt for having to use the Clock. This was the necessary evil of things, she told herself. Either she died—or they did.

Gritting her teeth, she returned the Clock to her pocket, and, with reluctance, swung her blade through the golden lines of all three men. It was a clean slice, and as she finished on the third, the warmth in her pocket faded. The pulsing stopped, and the world returned to normal. The darkness returned to the bright morning, briefly blinding her. Her vision was filled with red a moment later, the men's neck bursting with blood, some of which stained her shirt and got on her face. Her stomach grew into a fierce knot, knowing she had done this to them, even if it was her only option. She wasn't strong enough to take them on her own, and so she was forced to use such terrible means. That was the burden she would have to bear if it meant getting home—and keeping those she loved safe.

Catherine's gaze shot to the _Duomo_ where Ezio had been. Most of the guards in red had been taken care of or had run off already. Francesco remained, but he was being backed into the wall while Lorenzo was safely behind the young man. The Pazzi knew he was beaten—for now—and before Ezio could land a blow, he darted away. She was free of trouble herself at the moment, and so trotted over, ignoring the pain in her arm. It was still bleeding, but there was nothing to be done right now. She could bite back the pain, too, and so she came close. Lorenzo called for Ezio to wait, and although it was obvious he didn't want to, he turned away from where Francesco had gone. He noticed her then, and there was relief in his features that turned to concern when he saw her arm. Lorenzo noticed her then, too, and grew alarmed, raising his blade. She lifted her hands in surrender as Ezio quickly came over, placing himself between him.

"She is my friend—an ally!" he exclaimed, and the older man seemed eased by that.

"Then she is a friend of mine," he spoke wearily, and then looked them both right in the eyes as he began to stagger. "You… saved my life. I owe you a great debt—both of you, it seems."

"It's nothing, but the man who did this to you has to pay," Ezio replied, coming forward to steady him while his guards came their circle.

Lorenzo groaned in pain, clutching at his collar, "Not now—I need help first. To my home. People I can trust there… Can you?"

"Yes—we can do that," Catherine nodded, looking to Ezio when he glanced her way. "They were after you; we need to get you to safety or we may not prevent what they wanted in the end."

"She's right," the young man nodded, turning to Lorenzo. "I know where your home is. I can lead us there."

"Then we must go," he replied, hissing slightly as he leaned to get his blade. Catherine helped him, getting the blade up, and then motioned with her head for Ezio to leave. He paused, glancing to her wound, but she just gestured for him to go. Beside her, Lorenzo cursed softly. "I'm losing a lot of blood…"

Ezio winced, "Just hang on, my Lord. I will move us as fast we can. Follow me."

They headed off then, going at a decent run. Lorenzo could not go too quickly, still keeping a hand to his neck. Catherine, likewise, kept hers on her arm, though the blood still seeped through and the pain did not ebb. Still, they moved onward, passing through the streets where chaos reigned. Fires has started; where, no one could be sure, but it was spreading to stores and homes, clouding the sky in darkness and making breathing difficult. The heat was unbearable when they were forced to come close, but they were lucky in that most of their path was not rife with the flames. However, where there was no fire, there were soldiers fighting. Medici, Mercenaries, and even thieves fought against the Pazzi guards, and all around were bodies, blood, and the sounds of battle. It was deafening, but Ezio led them through it all, pausing only when a group of guards neared but with a quick whistle a large contingent of Mercenaries came to their add and occupied them. Ezio brought them through an alley then, where Lorenzo had to pause for a rest, his body weaker than theirs from the blood loss.

"We must keep going," the young man pressed, and Lorenzo growled with exasperation—and rage.

"Francesco de' Pazzi," he snarled as he moved once more. "I'll kill him! I'll wipe his entire family from the city! They'll be _ERASED_!"

"Don't waste your energy on words, my Lord. You need all the strength you can," Catherine urged, touching his arm. Her urging did seem to reach him some as he quieted, but his teeth were grit with his frustration and fury.

"Yes—I would rather deliver you than your corpse. We are almost there now, though," Ezio added, glancing back as he waited at the alley exit, and then motioned them forward.

Again, they kept their brisk pace as much as they could, although they slowed as they came to a more eloquent area. It was obviously made for the richer class, and she noticed there were far fewer Pazzi guards. Catherine was glad for that—her arm was sore in more than just her forearm, although she could keep fighting. She would rather not, though, but by the sounds of things, this battle would go on for a long while. Sure enough, as they neared a large home there was the ring of a fight. Guards in orange and red were at each other's throats, and Lorenzo cursed. Ezio looked to Catherine, and she moved her blade to her good arm. She imagined he wanted her to stay out of it, but she wouldn't—and couldn't—let her wound hold her back right now. So she pushed back the pain as she joined Ezio and the Medici soldiers in the fight. With their additional aid the Pazzi men were taken care of; letting them join the ranks of their dead. The guards in orange were relieved to have the help, and even more-so for the sight of Lorenzo hobbling into the near alley that led to a grand door. Ezio was the one to pound on it, though, as the guards and Catherine helped steady the man.

"Lorenzo's been wounded! Open the door!" the young man shouted as a peep hole was opened, revealing yet another soldier inside.

He narrowed his eyes at Ezio, "What's the password?"

"Poliziano! Open the fucking door!" Lorenzo snapped. Another time, Catherine might have laughed at the man's crassness, but now she relished in it. She wanted to sit and rest—and at least get her arm wrapped.

The door swung open, the man inside ushering them in, "By the Thrice Greatest! Come in! Quickly! The city is at war! Hurry!"

_'No shit,'_ Catherine wanted to say, but held her tongue as they shuffled inside, the door guard setting Lorenzo down on a bench. Ezio turned his attention to her then, pulled open her sleeve more where it had been cut to see the wound. He winced at it and motioned for her to sit. Apart of her wanted to say no, but she felt tired and so did as he wished.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she replied at first, a silent "I think" lingering. "Guard got a luck hit. Just rip my sleeve and wrap it."

Ezio didn't hesitate, tearing the rest of the cloth, helping off her bracer, and then slipping the sleeve off to tie it around the wound. The bleeding stopped then, but the cloth was going to be soaked. It would have to do.

"I have to go and find Francesco," he told her, although his hands lingered on her arm, the worry almost too clear in his eyes.

"Wait," Lorenzo called out, reaching. There was a look of such relief in his eyes as he looked at them both, and then bowed his head. "I am in your debt. Tell me: why did you help me?"

Ezio squeezed her arm slightly, looking to her, and then to Lorenzo, "You are not the only one who lost a brother to the Pazzi. My name is Ezio Auditore."

"And I am Catherine Wolfe," she added when the man looked to her. The older man mulled over some thought for a moment before he met Ezio's gaze, recognition there now.

"Ah, you are Giovanni's son…," he hummed, to which the young man nodded. "Your father was a good man. He understood honor, loyalty…"

A small smile crept onto the young man's face, but it was turned back into a frown when the door suddenly burst open with a soldier in orange rushing in, panting slightly.

"The Pazzi thugs are storming the _Palazzo della Signoria!_ We cannot hold them off much longer!"

"No!" Poliziano gasped. "If they get inside, they will murder all our supporters and put their own devils in power!"

"Then my survival would mean nothing. I have to—," Lorenzo rasped, attempting to stand, but he fell. Instead, he reached out, and took Ezio's arm, grasping at the Assassin sigil on his hidden blade bracer. He looked the young man straight in the eye. "Francesco de' Pazzi… help save our city, Auditore… _Kill him_."

"I intend to," Ezio growled softly, his gaze growing fierce as his hands clenched. Catherine stood then, adjusting her bracer now that the sleeve was gone, but was stopped as the young man placed a hand on her shoulder. "No. Catherine, you are injured. You need to stay here and rest—wait for the doctor."

"I'm not going to let you go alone—the Pazzi are all over the place!" she scowled, but he would not budge. His grip tightened on her shoulder, and she could see him silently begging for her to stay.

"And you are in no shape to stop them. Stay here and rest—_please_."

Beside them, Lorenzo's aid cleared his throat softly, "The doctor will come soon—he can see to your wound…"

Catherine kept her gaze locked with Ezio's, wanting to deny him; wanting to be by his side and help him. Yet, she knew she was faltering. His words—his pleading—was getting to her. He was worried for her. He didn't want to lose her just as much she didn't want to lose him. It made her heart race, her cheeks flush, and her gaze fall. She wanted to stand beside him, but she was in no shape to. Her arm was not strong enough to take on all the Pazzi or even climb right now. She would only be in the way. So she sighed and nodded, sitting down. He smiled softly at her, squeezing her shoulder gently, and made to leave. She caught his hand, though, squeezing right back.

"Come back safe—do you hear me?" she demanded, and his smile grew warmer as he returned her grasp.

"I will."

Then he was gone, and Catherine was left with a hint of regret and shame for having gotten her wound. It wasn't totally detrimental, but it was enough. There was nothing she could do, though—she could not handle the amount of soldiers he was going to face, and he was much stronger than her. She could only have faith in him. She knew he could do it, though. He was Ezio. He could do most anything.

"You… I do not know you—nor your family name," Lorenzo rumbled from the spot next to her. She looked to him, and nodded.

"I'm from England. I came to train with Giovanni, but he was too busy with his work, and so sent me to his brother, Mario Auditore. Ezio and I returned her to stop the Pazzi and their allies. We…. I," she began, but paused as the memory of the battle—of her failure—rushed to her. Her fingers clenched as she bowed her head deeply. "My Lord, forgive me. I-I tried to save Giuliano, but… I was… I didn't…. they… I was too late. I'm sorry."

The man was quiet for a long while, but she didn't dare look at him. His brother's death was on her hands, even if a force beyond her control had kept her from doing so. No words would change her mind, and she would carry the weight—and the memory of the moment—with her forever.

"Do not blame yourself," Lorenzo spoke softly, reaching over to touch her bracer. It was only then that she looked up and saw sadness, but also an absence of blame. "Rather, I thank-you for trying to save him. You faced a near impossible task. None of us could have known this would happen. It is a miracle that _I_ made it out alive, and… oh, my wife! Poliziano—is my wife safe? And Giuliano's?"

"Yes, my Lord. They were escorted back—they are further in the house and protected. Just remain calm until the doctor comes."

"Ah… I am relieved. And forgive me—I must seem cruel to have forgotten them," the older man chuckled sadly, but she shook her head.

"No—no one remembers everything in these moments. And… thank-you for your words. Still… I wish I could have done more."

He chuckled sadly, "No one knows such a desire better than I. If I had done more… if I had not been elsewhere… I might have saved Giovanni and his family. He was a dear friend of mine—almost like a brother. When I learned he had died… a great gap was made in my heart, and I lost perhaps the best and most powerful ally and friend I had ever had. Yet… I see his lives on—in his son. Ezio is not unlike his father."

Catherine smiled, "He is… he'll become better, even. I have no doubt of that."

"You two care for each other," Lorenzo mused, bringing a flush to her face. He chuckled again, waving off her embarrassment. "That is good. I met Giovanni's wife once. They cared for each other deeply, too—it made him better. He fought harder, and she protected him. It will surprise many what having someone to protect will do."

She paused, letting the words sink in, and smiled again, "Trust me… I know."

A knock on the door came then, and the doctor was let in. He was at Lorenzo's side at once, tending to the wound. It had, thankfully, missed the jugular, but stitches and a strong wrap were needed, along with medicine and rest. Lorenzo was stubborn about it, insisting he was needed, but the doctor forbade him. He was to rest and eat to regain his strength, and no more was to be said of it. The man reluctantly agreed, and then made sure Catherine's wound was looked after. It wasn't as bad as it felt, and the doctor did a quick stitch work, noting it might need more later, but there were more wounded he had to see to. Thus, he gave her a new wrap and medicine to drink, urging her to not strain the limb or do extraneous activity. She nodded, but as more soldiers came and gave word of the battle growing as night fell, she knew she couldn't stay.

"Where are you going?" Lorenzo called when she pulled her hood over her head and made for the door after the doctor had gone. She paused to turn back towards him as he continued with a frown. "Ezio wished for you to rest."

"I have rested… and I won't join him, like he asked… but there's more Pazzi than just at the _Signoria_. Ezio will kill Francesco, but this isn't just any snake—it's a hydra with many heads, and plenty of fangs. The least I can do to help is to get rid of those teeth and help our allies in the city. That, and… well, I'm not the kind to just let him go off on his own and fight by himself. I'm going to do my part to help him—he can yell at me later," she grinned slightly, which elicited a small chuckle from Lorenzo as he was helped up by his aid.

"I see I will not be able to sway you… then so be it. Go forth and kill all the Pazzi you find… but when you are done or grow weary, return to here. I will offer you sanctuary. The guards will know you."

"I will make sure of it," Poliziano nodded in agreement before heading further into the building. Catherine muttered her thanks, but spared them no more thought as she slunk out the door.

**-O-**

The night went by in a blur.

It was easy enough to find the Pazzi, either fighting with the Medici guards, mercenaries, or even thieves. Bodies were everywhere; the stench of death was so strong it was almost as suffocating as the smell of smoke. The streets were stained with blood and water ran red, as did the tears on people's faces. Children wailed, women screamed, and men moaned. Innocents were killed while the guilty lived on, escaping into the night. Denizens cried over their sons and daughters and husbands and sisters and brothers. A child sobbed over the body of their dead mother. Brothers in arms held back their tears as they faced the next challenge or collapsed from exhaustion and the horror of it all. The city was rife with chaos and sorrow, and the night was long. The citizens unharmed were filled with rage or defeat, and uproar began some ways away, only to be quenched as quickly as it had formed. Confusion was mixed within it all, and it was in such calamity that Catherine did her work.

At times, it was automatic. Someone attacked, and she attacked back. She would stab, slash, parry, and strike. They would fall while she went on. Sometimes she had help, other times, she helped. Every so often, when the enemy was too much, the Clock activated, and her guilt grew, but she could not let the enemy go. Their survival meant the death of more innocents, and that could not stand. Evil was needed to end evil, and so she used it when it came to her. She was only so glad to find it only came when there was no other hope—when she would have died otherwise. She hated admitted it was more than she liked, but by the end the Clock had helped her only five times.

Even without it, many Pazzi had fallen, either by her means or others. She trudged through it all, sometimes remembering she had come one way and others not sure how she'd gotten there. It was a mess as the night progressed. A throbbing and come over her head throughout the night, and her body felt hot. She was sluggish as the night deepened and the conflict began to settle; the fires dying down; the wails and sobs and moans becoming whimpers. Her body felt heavy and her arm pulsed in pain, joining in with the rest of her body and the new cuts she had received. It was inevitable, and her torso and legs were stained with red with blood, be it her own or those she had cut down. None of her injuries were fatal or too serious, but she felt them with every step back to Lorenzo's home.

She made it, though, and it was there she had finally collapsed onto the bench, lying flat. Poliziano had helped her in and called the doctor once more, and she vaguely recalled talking to him; hearing him reprimand her. She drank and ate something at one point, and there was a mention of "fever", but it could have been a dream. She knew she _did_ dream at one point, though her memory was foggy even through that. She recalled she had woken up on the bench, a blanket given to her now, and then she was asleep once more.

She briefly woke again later. For how long she had slept, she didn't know. A touch had stirred her, and she saw a figure she swore she knew, but it was a blur and she mumbled something incoherent before drifting off.

A slight jostle brought her consciousness back, and she felt even heavier than before, despite the fact she was being carried. She glanced up as best she could, and thought she recognized the face. She definitely knew the scar across the lips, and the sound of the voice—male—was familiar. They told her everything would be fine; that he had her. They called her a damned, stubborn woman for making him worry. She tried mumbling an "I'm sorry", but it probably didn't come out to well. She wasn't sure. What she was sure of, though, was that she was safe now, and that whoever held her would keep her that way—always.

Knowing that, she fell asleep once more.

* * *

**34 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap! Not a huge, super-duper fight, but some important stuff. All three factions working with the Assassins, and it seems Catherine is more of a pawn than she thinks... and the Clock isn't always a benefit. It's a tricky bugger, tell you what. And then stubborn 'ol Cat fighting until she drops. Crazy stuff that night, and most of it a blur for her... Oh, and Ezio did succeed and kill Francesco, although Catherine didn't get to see it. Like before, she won't be part of _every _kill or mission or everything as she wasn't here. She's got her own stuff to do, after all :p But don't worry, she'll join him for many others, too xD_

_Anyways, hope you enjoyed the Catzio moments. There's more next chapter so get ready ;)_

_P.S. RIP Giuiliano ;(_


	36. Flightless Bird, American Mouth

**TMWolf: **_And we're back with chapter 35! A little early posting, I guess, but I just felt like it :) Dang, we've come a long way, though, guys, and there's plenty more to go! :) Right so, this is the aftermath chapter with Catzio fluff to be had and then back home to Monteriggioni. So have fun with this one haha_

_As always thank-you sooooooooooooooooo much for your reviews! They mean a lot and I love reading your comments! Don't be afraid to let me know them or to ask any questions! I generally will be able to answer all of them, but if spoilers are involved, well, I don't want to spoil you, ha ha. Thanks again! You guys are awesome!_

_So, today's chapter is from Iron &amp; Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth. Not really much to do with the story lyric-wise, but I thought it fit Catherine's situation this chapter ha ha xD_

_Now onto the show!_

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**35** – _Flightless Bird, American Mouth_

* * *

**April 28, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine sighed as she turned, still half-asleep. She felt a soft surface beneath her and grasped at it lightly. It was comfy, certainly, and the softer thing beneath her was even better. She nuzzled her face into it as she rolled to her belly. The blanket on her shifted with the movement, keeping her warm. She was quite cozy, actually, although she felt tired, too—_very_ tired. Almost exhausted, and now that she was more awake she felt a slight ache all around, with the worst in her left arm. That gave her pause. She opened her eyes then, and there was a pillow where her face was planted. She leaned slightly to the left, but then hissed and tuned the other way. She frowned, looking over at her limb, and once her sleeve was rolled up, she found the wound, covered in a wrap with a light blood stain that had seeped through some time ago. She touched at it carefully, but even that was enough to elicit a bit of pain—nothing serious, but she felt it.

The redhead looked around the room then, and realized it was Leonardo's—the guest one. The one she'd been using for the past few days. She didn't recall getting here, but she got the answer to her unspoken question soon enough when she looked to the corner of the room and saw a sight that made her heart skip a beat: Ezio. He was sleeping, his body slumped to one side of his chair as he leaned on the arm. His legs were splayed out and his hair loose, sprawled out on his face with his ponytail over his shoulder. He looked tired with a few bags under his eyes, and she could see some stains of blood and tears in his shirt—no doubt from the battle. He held a rag in his hand, but it was clear of blood, yet had left a damp spot on his pants where it hovered over. He must have fallen asleep—doing what, though? What was he doing here? What was _she_ doing here?

More questions came as she realized her shirt was not her own. It was a size too big, and smelled like—well, someone else. She didn't dare say who although she knew _exactly _who, which made her flush. At least the pants were _definitely_ hers, and fit her just right. Still, she had the realization that her normal clothes had been taken and she'd been changed, and couldn't help wondering if Ezio had been the one to do it. She quickly shook it away, although her cheeks had already gone scarlet at the thought of him seeing her bare, even if it was to help. He wouldn't have done that—not unless there was no other way, but they had allies. That, and he didn't have the skillset to take care of a wound to the extent it was done—she could feel stitches there—so someone else would have tended to the wound and dressed it, and probably dressed her. A maid probably. Annetta preferably. Hopefully.

A sharp breath caused her to jump, and her head turned to find Ezio suddenly up, looking around blearily; still waking up. He looked down to the rag in his lap, mumbled something about needing to soak it again, and then looked up. Immediately, his eyes went wide, and they both stared at one another like deer in headlights.

"Uh," she began after a few moments, grasping at the sheets as her embarrassment made her heart race more. That was all she got out, though, before the young man stood up and raced over. He had his hands up, as if about to touch her, but then pulled back at the last moment and instead sat down on the edge of the bed, grinning.

"You're awake! How do you feel?" he inquired, motioning to her arm.

She flushed a little, touching at it slightly, "It stings, but it's not bad. I feel… um… tired. I think? What—what happened? How did…?"

Ezio chuckled, reaching over to touch her head, pushing her bangs out of the way. She flushed a bit more at that, but he just smiled and nodded.

"You had a fever when I found you at Lorenzo's, but you are much better now. The doctor said it was due to your injuries, but that you would be alright, and here you are! It took longer than I would have liked—you were in and out of consciousness quite a bit," he hummed, getting a puzzled frown from her. It grew into a raised brow when Ezio suddenly frowned, too, and looked at her sternly. "Catherine, why did you leave? I told you not to…"

Catherine met the young man's eyes and saw the worry there. She couldn't help feeling another skip in her heartbeat knowing that. She pushed it aside for the moment, though. Such silly thoughts, really. Very silly.

She looked down at her hands, "I left because the Pazzi were still trouble—the mercenaries and everyone needed help… so I did. And, I mean… you said not to help with just Francesco, really. And I didn't. And before you give me that look—I take it the man is dead? What about Jacopo?"

"Francesco is dead, but Jacopo got away," Ezio replied, though he still gave her the look she mentioned—the one where he was silently chastising her even though she was right on a technicality. The "harm" was done, though, and could not be changed, but they both knew that they were only glad both of them were alright.

"We'll have to find him then… oh, hey… did you… give proper rights?" she asked softly, recalling Mario's words. He had burned them into both their heads firmly after Vieri's death, so she hoped he was able to do so when she hadn't. It was harder when the number of deaths grew too high—their commander had told them it would happen, and they could only lament later. Thankfully, Ezio nodded to her question.

"Yes. He did not deserve it, but he got it," he replied, frowning.

Catherine raised her brow slightly, "What is it?"

"I just… the way he was… I never mentioned it, but… Mario gave me a letter the night we killed Vieri. I read it before I slept, and… well… I do not regret killing Vieri for what he has done, but now… now I pity him," he spoke softly, his eyes gazing at the far wall. When he glanced back at the redhead he saw her confusion, and so sighed. He rubbed the back of his head. "Vieri only ever wanted his father's love, but Francesco… he was too clouded by greed and hate—he could not even love his own son. At the meeting I told you of, he showed no remorse that his son had died but a week ago. So… yes. I pity Vieri. Everything he did was to earn his father's attention, and all he received was scorn. I still have not forgiven him for what he did and helped do. I do not think I ever will, and he was a vile thing… but… I pity him."

Catherine was quiet for a moment, thinking. She looked down at her hands, and then up to Ezio. He was still staring at the wall, his face set so strangely. He seemed so torn about it, and as she thought on it herself, she began to feel the same. If what Ezio said was true, then Vieri's actions and his demeanor were caused by a lack of a father's love—or perhaps any love for that matter. No one to show him the way; no one to support him. No one to be there for him. She had seen what that could do before, be it in real life or stories. The victim rarely ended up good or doing well, and the Pazzi boy had ended up no different.

"Was Francesco really that bad?" she asked softly, and the young man finally looked at her. He nodded after a moment.

"I never saw him much before my father died… but the lack of love for his son… and the words he spouted when I faced him… you were there when he attacked Lorenzo and his brother, too. He was a man without mercy—even for his own blood."

"…Then… then I think it's okay to pity Vieri… I admit I don't really want to. I want to hate him still…. But… if it is how you say… then I pity him, too," she replied, and watched as Ezio glanced down briefly then back up. Again, he nodded. She presented a small smile in kind, and then took in a deep breath that she let out quickly. She turned her gaze back down to her hand. "Let's… I guess talk about something else?"

He managed a smile, "Right—of course. Sorry. It's just… the last few days have been, ah… tiring."

She frowned, "Wait—days? How long was I out?"

"Two days. You had a bad fever. The doctor said it was from infection in some of your wounds, and exhaustion. Lorenzo's men did what they could before I got to you, and then I brought you back here to Leonardo's. He's been worried about you, you know. Hasn't been able to paint proper."

"Oh, no, poor Leo!" she laughed lightly, pausing when her eyes fell to the rag in his hands. "…And you were…?"

He looked to the rag, blinking, and then shrugged, "The Doctor said to wipe away any sweat and to keep your head cool… so I thought I'd take up the task."

"Uh-huh," she chuckled, not missing the unspoken "I-was-worried" hidden there. She couldn't help smiling a little. Such foolish hope, but it was there, nurturing itself. She hummed thoughtfully, recalling her attire, and her cheeks grew warm. She pulled at the shirt, coughing a bit awkwardly. "So, uh… the clothes was, ah… um…"

"Annetta," Ezio grinned before winking. "I must say she chose a good look for you."

Cheeks even hotter, she smacked his chest, eliciting a laugh from him. He waved off her anger as she folded her arms over her chest and pouted.

"Aww, come now, I was just joking! I did not choose the shirt or dress you or anything. Annetta did all that was needed, and she used my extra shirt because your last one got too dirty from your fever and the blood. I swear I was not involved beyond keeping your head clean and looking after you."

"…I _guess_ I believe you," she hummed, eyeing him briefly, and then looked around. The thing she desired was not around, though. "So, um… is Annetta going to bring me my gear or…?"

"She's patched it up, but has kept it at the brothel for now. The city has… well, it's better, but things are still a little tense while Lorenzo calms the people and helps patch them up. The Pazzi did a great deal of damage, and the people want someone to blame. Thankfully, the Pazzi and their allies are being ousted, but with no one arrested… the people are unhappy. It is best we not leave much, if at all. Annetta and Paola thought the same, though they have been sending messages back and forth through the girls. Lorenzo has as well, though only once or twice. He wants to speak with me soon—when I was ready."

"What? Didn't want to see me?" she snickered.

Ezio grinned, "He knew you were sick, and he figured I would be less noticeable."

"Wait—_I'm_ more noticeable than _you_? I mean, sure I'm a woman with a sword, but, I mean… c'mon. Your clothes are flashier and you did the big kill."

"Yes, buut," he mused, leaning back on his arms, "I did so quietly and without being seen by the crowd. _You_ made a name for yourself during the battle. Talk spread of a devilish beast in the form of a woman last night. Something like that. They said you struck down the enemy like nothing they'd ever seen, and protected the innocent. However, some think… well, they think you killed some of the innocent, too. The people are very scared, and they're looking for someone to blame…"

"_Really,"_ Catherine mused, brow raised. "So am I wanted or something?"

"Well, no. No posters… but you might want to not do anything conspicuous for some time."

"Considering I'm starving and don't feel like taking a walk around the town, let alone even get out of bed, I think we'll be fine," she chuckled back.

"You're hungry? Ah, to be expected with how long you slept. Do you need me to carry you to the main room?" Ezio asked, already standing up; ready to help. Despite what sincerity might be there, his grin made her raise a hand.

"Oh, no, no—I can do it!" she spoke quickly, much to his bemusement. She paused, shifting her legs and finding the movement odd. "Just… be ready. Just in case."

His grin widened, "I can do that."

She gave him a look, but had to admit she _might_ need it. She hadn't eaten much nor had anything to drink in about two days. Oh, and then she'd fought a hard battle before passing out. There was that fever to boot, too. She was exhausted, and even if she had trained constantly for a few years, three rough days could really put a dent into someone. She was never one to shy from a challenge, though, and she _had_ just fought against an army in a bad state and survived, so if she couldn't handle this, then she would bring a great deal of shame on herself.

Breathing in deeply, Catherine lifted the covers from the bed, freeing her legs from it. She scooted them to the edge, hating how they felt a bit awkward. Nonetheless, she let them touch the wooden floor. Carefully, she eased herself up, and winced at the strain. She felt sore, for sure, and there were new aches from the movement. Ezio was there, though, a hand on her back, as he looked to her, concerned, ready, and waiting.

"I think I should be fine. What's for breakfast?" she grinned, and he returned it.

"For you, not too much—the doctor mentioned you shouldn't eat a full meal right away. You need to drink more than eat, too. But… at the moment Annetta brought meat, eggs, bread, and milk about two hours ago. There's still some left over."

"God, that sounds amazing… Oh, if you can—send her word I'd like my clothes?"

"Don't like mine?" he winked, to which she rolled her eyes.

"It smells, and I like mine better. Now hush. I want some breakfast."

He chuckled, "As you wish."

Catherine smiled back, albeit with another eye roll, and started for the doorway. Her legs were shaky—more so than she wanted. She grew steadier with every step, though, but not enough to where she'd be walking around the city or anything. It would get her to the table in the main room, though, and with Ezio right there it made it easier. Soon enough she was in a wooden chair where there was still a basket full of things to dine on. The young man got it out for her, despite her protests, and soon she had milk, a slice of bread, and eggs in her belly. Already that was enough to make her full, so she settled down and looked around. She was a bit disappointed she couldn't find or hear Leonardo. Ezio mentioned he was out, so that was that. Catherine sighed a little, settling back, and patting her full belly. She would need to eat later yet again, but for now she was content. Ezio, like-wise, was satisfied from his spot across from her, munching on a few bites and sipping his milk. He suddenly paused, though, mid-chew, catching her attention. He grinned as he held up a hand, rummaged through a hidden pocket in his shirt, normally used for an emergency money pouch, and pulled out a very familiar object: her Clock.

"Wha—," she began, eyes wide, and touched at her side, but then remember she lacked her vest's pocket. She quickly took the item back, heart racing. Briefly, she tried to understand why he could have it, but then recalled the god's words—that the Clock would always come back to her, and would only hurt those who meant to keep it from her. It would not part unless it was to return to her. Ezio would never take it from her, either, so of course it wouldn't hurt him.

"Sorry, I know it's important to you—it's your way home, so I kept it safe for you," he smiled while she looked down at it, rubbing at the hand. Briefly, she thought the one bar had moved slightly, but then again—what did she really know about it? Its power was beyond her. She smiled, thanking him softly, and put it into her lap. When she looked back up, he was watching her some, a question lingering. She raised a brow, urging him to answer. "Did it… work? During the fight?"

"No," she replied instantly, and wondered why she lied. She glanced away briefly. "Or… it… it, y'know… will tell me things. It's been doing that again. Not anything definitive, but it likes to point me in the right direction."

"Well, that's useful," he mused while she took another bite of toast. Her stomach was dropped some, so she was beginning to feel hungry again. Or maybe sick—she wasn't sure. Ezio regarded her for a moment before standing up and straightening his clothes. "Hey. Eat up and feel better. I'll go get Annetta. She'll have your clothes and she can take a look at your wounds. I imagine you don't want me looking under your shirt—or have you had a change or heart?"

She flushed, "No I have not. Go get her, you perv."

He laughed, winking, "In denial as always—you really must be feeling better now."

"A little," she chuckled back, and then watched him go. It was only once she heard the door close that she let out a groan and shoved her face into her hands. She felt awful now. She'd lied to Ezio, and she still wasn't sure why. Oh, she could think of the reasons. To protect him. To hide the power away. To not feel shame when he knew the truth. To not see him afraid of her. To keep the chance of anyone else finding out nonexistent. Be she was afraid of this power—this uncontrollable power she could not pick and choose when to use it. The power that destroyed people will sickening ease. All to go home.

She was beginning to wonder if it was worth it—all this death at her hands; just to get home.

Yet, it was to save Ezio, too—to make things right. But what did this timeline even lead to? Would it even keep Ezio safe? The god seemed to want to keep him alive, but for how long? What if it made her turn on him? That thought was the most unbearable—even more so than never going home. She bit her lip, almost causing it to bleed in her struggle. This wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She shouldn't have this, but she was the only one able to use it. She was the only one who could do this, and she had no choice. Not one she could see. She needed one, though. She needed a way to get around this. It worse still, though, when she knew, deep now, she needed the Clock, too, and not just for saving Ezio or going home. It had kept her alive in this battle. She would be dead without it. So she couldn't just be free of it. She needed it. Yet, she needed a way to control it, too.

But how?

No amount of thinking would bring it to her, however, and so she could only groan and despair. She was a slave until she found some way—_if_ there was one, and no matter what she couldn't tell Ezio. She didn't have the heart; didn't have the courage. She couldn't have him afraid or worrying over her, or worse. She had to do this somehow without him knowing, and thankfully he hadn't caught on. He'd been suspicious after Vieri, but he hadn't seen her during the fight, and the people had been too frantic to see anything, either. She was still safe for now. She would only have to suffer the guilt of never telling him; of never telling anyone. Except, perhaps, Mario. He could maybe help her—he always knew what to do. Maybe. Hopefully.

Until they got back, though, she could only hope for the best.

"Hello! Ezio? I have returned! Is Catherine awake?" a voice called as a door opened. Catherine sat up, recognizing it was Leonardo, and so plastered a grin on her face as she heard him coming closer. Sure enough, he appeared in the doorway, looking down at first, but then looked up and gasped. Delight instantly came over him and he rushed over to embrace her. He paused, though, eye flicking to her shirt—no doubt he noticed the stains—and stopped. Instead, he sat down beside her and took her hands, squeezing gently.

"Oh, Catherine! I am so happy you are alright! I was so worried—we all were! Especially, Ezio. He rarely left your side. I wished to be there, too, but I was called to help with the reconstruction and other things and I—," he began, only cut off once the redhead laugh and pulled her hand away to signal for him to stop. She grasped his hand again then, squeezing right back.

"Don't worry, Leo; I know you were worried. I'm okay now, though—or at least, better. Still a little weak from everything, but definitely not sick anymore."

He sighed with relief, "Good. I knew you would pull through in the end, but it is still always worrying to see a friend in the state you were in. That, and I was already worried when you two left, after hearing what happened to the Medici and then all the chaos! Oh, it was terrible. I can barely believe you two made it out as well as you did…but you did! You two are… you are something else—something I have never seen in this world for all the years I have yet lived, nor that I shall live. I am honored to be friends."

Catherine couldn't help smiling and embraced Leonardo, who returned it at once. She pulled back after a few moments and just kept on smiling at him. She had truly only known him a little while, but to hear him have such words and kindness—it made her heart swell.

"And we're honored to be _your_ friends, Leo," she replied, grinning now as she leaned back. "So… Ezio told me you were busy while I was out?"

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, yes I was. Lorenzo asked for my assistance. He called me away to help with rebuilding—and to pass messages. Ezio had told him where he would be. I wanted to refuse at first and stay to make sure you were better, but, well… Ezio did a fine job of it."

She raised a brow, "He mentioned he would wet my head or dab it."

"What? Oh, no no—he was at your bedside the whole time!" Leonardo laughed while Catherine's cheeks grew warm. "He brought you back, quite worried, and he would only leave when Annetta came to change you. He barely slept as well."

"Oh?" she asked—a bit sheepishly. Ezio had done that for her? She almost couldn't believe it, and yet she did, and it made her heart race even faster than when she'd woken. He cared—more than she thought. He had to. Right? There was no way he couldn't. So maybe that meant something; meant something was there. Or did it? Maybe it was just because he cared for her deeply as a friend or like family. He couldn't like her as more than _that_. It wasn't possible. Was it?

"Yes, indeed. He tried to refuse care himself, but Annetta managed to convince him by threatening him with a _pan_ of all things! She is… quite an interesting woman herself," the artist hummed with a wry grin.

Catherine laughed, "You have no idea… hopefully Ezio can get her here. I'd like my clothes back as soon as possible."

"Mmm… I suppose that shirt is a little too big for you. And a tad dirty. Ah, I am a terrible host—I should have offered my own."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm getting mine back soon. Anyways, in the meantime, tell me about what you're doing. Ezio told me what's been going, but you said you're helping with construction?"

Leonardo beamed, "Of course, of course! My apologies, I keep getting off track! Goodness, where should I begin…?"

"Just get talking—I don't know how long Ezio will be, and I'm not going anywhere any time soon," Catherine mused, taking another bite of bread. The artist grinned right back, her urging all he needed to begin, and he did so with gusto. He explained all he had been called for and all his new designs, and his hopes of how it might help the city. Normally, such talk might have been boring, but the way his eye glowed and the way he spoke was so enthralling she couldn't not listen. Indeed, she was caught up in his words all the way until the doors opened and two familiar places appeared. It was Annetta and Ezio, the former carrying a decent bundle that Catherine was all too happy to take up. She and the former Auditore maid quickly retreated to the guest room, Annetta keeping Ezio away with a glare and Catherine's laugh to echo off it. Once in privacy the maid inspected her injuries, redressing any, and then, once with her proper clothes on, the redhead was able to sigh with relief.

"God, it feels good to be back in my own clothes," she grinned, adjusting it in the mirror. She refrained from putting on her leather—it wasn't needed right now.

"And since you will be remaining inside for the next few days, it should not get dirty any time soon," Annetta mused wryly, to which Catherine raised a brow. The maid raised it back. "You are in no state to be running about, and it would be best you not take the chance of being noticed with the city in the state it is. Although, frankly, it would be best you leave soon—within the next few days if possible."

"…Yeah, we should… I expected it, anyways—the Pazzi escaped besides Francesco, so we'll need to go after them. We need to see Mario, too, and report to him," she replied as she picked up her blade, unsheathed it, and then looked it over briefly. It had some scuffs and even a chip here or there. It would need working back home, but for now it would do against any potential conflicts. She didn't doubt there might be some. Even if the Pazzi might be driven out, as she suspected they had, they could be out on the road.

"Indeed, but it will need to be under the cover of night—and when you have more strength. Your fever was a strong one, and you are shaking still," the maid mused, eyes glancing down at her blade, which twittered up and down ever so slightly. Catherine frowned as she quickly sheathed it and put it back down. She inspected her other gear instead, but paused when Annetta made a sound; getting ready to speak. The redhead glanced over when the maid came to stand beside her. "Also, I have decided to come to _Monteriggioni_ with you, although I will leave ahead of you."

Catherine spun towards her, eyes wide, "You—you're coming with us?! But… wait—what about… what about Paola?"

"My sister agrees it is a good idea. As much as I love her, I am not as fond of the courtesan life or its machinations as she is, even if for the greater good. My place was working with Giovanni and helping to ensure his safety and that of his family… and, well, I admit seeing you both again—seeing Ezio again… I miss them. Claudia. Maria. I miss them very much. I lived most of my life in their service, and I would love to be with them again. So… I have decided to make use of myself in the best way I know how. Serving the Auditore's, and helping to keep them safe—and clean."

"Annetta… you're sure?"

The maid nodded, "Yes. I am. As I said—someone has to make sure you all stay clean."

"You may have to ask Ghita first—she's our head maid," Catherine smirked, but faltered when she saw an almost sly smile on Annetta's face. "What? What is it?"

"Ghita will be taking over the brothel there, actually. She worked there once, you know; a former courtesan, now Madame. She and Paola have also exchanged correspondence, and my sister will send girls to help, so once the brothel is completed _Monteriggioni_ will grow in strength yet again."

"Well, uh… did Paola tell Mario? I mean, I'm sure he'll be fine with it, but, y'know," the redhead inquired, to which the maid nodded. "Oh. Well, uh… Wow. That's—that's great! I can't believe we'll have you again! Oh—Oh! Claudia's going to be so happy, and—and… and Maria… oh, Annetta… she… she hasn't changed much, but… but maybe with you around…"

"I will do all I can to help her," the maid smiled, touching Catherine's arm. She left it there for a moment before breathing out deeply and putting her hands on her hips. "Well. If you are content, I am sure Ezio and Sir da Vinci would like to spend more time with you—especially the artist. Also, I will need to return and prepare for my journey. Take care of yourself, my dear."

The redhead hugged her quickly, "I will. Same to you… but… wait—what about Pazzi on the road…?"

"I will return with some of Mario's men from here. I will be plenty safe. Time on the streets and with Giovanni taught Paola and I both how to defend ourselves well enough. You need not worry. _You_ are the one who is still hurt. Frankly, I would rather have you not journey—even if only a day's ride—for a while longer, but you cannot afford the luxury."

"I'm a tough girl, I can manage—and the arm injury isn't that bad. Besides, riding won't hurt it."

"No, but it can hurt the wound on your leg. _That_ needed stitches, too," Annetta quipped back with a reprimanding look.

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Once I get more to eat I won't even be tired. I'll be _fine_, Annetta…. Yeesh, now I'm not sure I want you back with us. Mario and Ghita are bad enough—but with _you_ there? I won't get to do anything fun! You know, I don't remember you being so bad…"

"That is because you had other responsible eyes watching out for you. Now, heed my advice: rest, east, and prepare for your journey home. I will ensure you both have a warm welcome."

"Alright, alright… thank-you for everything, Annetta. Can't wait to see you back home," the redhead grinned. Annetta smiled right on back, nodded her head, and departed the room. Catherine watched her go, shaking her head with a laugh, and followed not long after. There, she returned to Ezio and Leonardo with the woman, although the maid couldn't stay long. It was just enough to say their good-byes and then it was just the redhead and her two favorite men in her life. She was all too happy to spend her time with them, and to let any of her worries and pains be pushed far back into her mind—at least for a little while.

**-O-**

**April 30, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Catherine perked up from her drawing when there was a knock on the door. She set her piece of charcoal down and traded it for a bit of bread as she watched Ezio return, pulling down his hood as he entered. He sighed some as he plopped down next to her, shoulders slumping, and an unhappy look about him. She passed him the bottle of wine at once along with bread, and he happily took both. He downed most of the first and then scarfed some bites of the other. She let him chew and do as he needed, finishing off her own piece as she eyed him. He was agitated—that was clear, just not the why.

Finally, she leaned back some, "Sooo… how did the talk go?"

"Well enough, I suppose," he huffed slightly, letting his arms fall on his legs, bottle dangling between them. He did grin a little. "Turns out my father saved Lorenzo when he was just a boy—that's how he knew him. Apparently my father worked very closely with him."

"Wow—really? And Lorenzo… I'm guessing he wants you to work with him, too?"

"Yes. He has asked we help him cleanse the city and the surrounding countryside of the Pazzi influence or any others who would do harm—in time. He would have us wait until things have calmed down first and time for the Pazzi to get complacent. He'll send us messages through the pigeons, as we will to him over our decisions. They could take us all over—here, _San Gimignano_, the land around _Monteriggioni_, and so forth."

"Sounds easy enough. So what has you all… _this_," she continued, motioning to him.

"The Pazzi—Francesco and Jacopo did not work alone."

She sat up some, "We know that, though. There was that fat guy in red, and you mentioned others in the meeting… and that one guy—the Spaniard, you've been calling him?"

"They escaped. Lorenzo has 'pretended' to capture and hang some to quell the crowds, but ultimately most are out there still. In truth, only Francesco was killed."

"…Shit. So… a lot of them are out there then," she frowned, to which Ezio nodded. "Any leads?"

He sat up as he set the bottle down on the table, "Names. Antonio Maffei, Stefano da Bagnone, Archbishop Francesco Salviati, and Bernardo Baroncelli. Rodrigo should be in Rome, so he is well beyond us still. But the others… they have fled to the countryside. We might yet find and end them—end their conspiracies."

"Do we know _where_ exactly they are?" Catherine asked, scribbling their names down quickly.

"No, unfortunately, and we suspect they are out of reach for the time being," Ezio sighed, taking another drink and then relieving himself of the bottle. He took another chunk from the bread. "We'll have to wait to hear from Lorenzo and Mario's men. They'll send scouts around; call in their spies."

Catherine opened her mouth to speak, but paused. A face flickered into her mind at the mention of spies and she tapped her chin thoughtfully. Ezio noticed at once and raised a brow.

"You… have something?" he inquired, and she glanced over.

"…Maybe. La Volpe," she mused. "He was willing to help in the fight, and he said he was sending representatives to _Monteriggioni_. If he's allied with us... perhaps we could make use of his thieves. They can go where most can't—be it mercenary, Lorenzo's men, or even courtesans. We could use them."

"That we could. Certainly, we will need all the help we can get. I imagine finding La Volpe will be too difficult, but getting to his representative won't be since they're in the city now," Ezio rumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"We could find him… but you'd have to do it—it's better I'm not seen, and we're leaving tomorrow, right?" she asked, and he nodded. "Then I don't want to take chances. It's a day's ride to _Monteriggioni_, too, so we have time. The Pazzi shouldn't be stupid enough to show themselves just yet."

"No, they wouldn't… so, yes, we have time. We can use it to scout the countryside ourselves or at least make a holding—and let you recover."

She snorted, "You too, buster. Annetta told me you got some wounds, although you have the annoying knack of healing faster than me. We'll need to recover for another day before we train some more… We also need to work more on group fighting. We weren't fully prepared for that many at once. Or, well. _I_ wasn't."

"That definitely is something we can work on… and next time we'll make sure to stick together. Or do our best. But you will need to take longer to recover. In fact, best we ride together."

She snorted again, brow raised, "A hurt arm won't keep me from riding."

"No… but I wouldn't have minded it," he winked suddenly, and she rolled her eyes as she smacked his calf with the side of her boot. He laughed cheekily as he took another bite and waved off her huff. "Alright, alright. We'll ride apart—but if you look in distress, I'm going to insist."

"Don't count on it, buster. I can ride just fine. Now hush and finish your meal or do whatever's needed."

"Actually… I need to head back to Paola's tonight. I want to be close to the gates to prepare the horses and ensure we'll be safe—that you have a safe path. We'll probably have to leave at night and reach _Monteriggioni_ the next day," he explained, making her pause briefly before returning to her drawing.

"Well, now you won't have to sleep in a chair."

He gave her a look, "I wouldn't have had to if you let me stay in the bed with you."

"Pfft. I don't like sharing," she quipped, and then quickly added, "That one time was special. Anyways, go get what you need done, and send a messenger or come get me, I guess."

"I'll come get you. I'll get all the supplies we need, too, so don't worry about that. Just be ready to move when it's time. We don't need to rush, but…"

Catherine nodded, "Got it. Right, well… I guess you're heading off soon?"

"I suppose so… I should get things going before daylight is done. You'll be alright?" Ezio asked as he stood, hesitant some. She smiled at him, nodding with a soft "yeah". He smiled back, touching her shoulder gently. "Alright. I'll come for you tomorrow, and we'll leave after giving our farewells to Leo."

"Sounds good. Be safe," she replied softly.

He grinned, "Don't I always?"

"Do I need to answer that?"

"Don't be mean now."

"Just go, you dork."

"…I don't know what that is, but I'll take it as a jest and take my leave as well," Ezio laughed with a wink, and then finally departed.

**-O-**

**May 1, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

"So, ready?"

Catherine looked up from her horse to Ezio, whom held his close by. She nodded, although that was a lie. She felt sore. To be safe, she and the young man had taken the rooftops. There hadn't been many guards there, with more spent on the ground to search for the Pazzi or on the city walls, so it was an easy run—so to speak. Despite having days to recover, she still felt weaker than she would have liked. Her muscles ached, and her wounds that weren't fully healed and required stitches stung. She had pushed through, but she regretted it some now; especially knowing she would have to ride. She was a trooper, though, and would just push through.

"Yeah. You have everything?" she asked as she adjusted her saddle some, preparing to mount up.

"Just about," he hummed. She looked to him, brow raised suspiciously, and when he noticed he coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. She narrowed her eyes, silently demanding he explain. He groaned as he turned away. "I, ah… the… Paola—er… the, ah… courtesans. The ladies, they ah… want to, ah… send me… a… parting… gift."

"…A… gift?"

"For, ah… that is, uh… last night, um… ah…"

Realization dawned, and there was more hurt than she thought there would be in her belly. It stung with betrayal, and then shame with the sense of being foolish. She didn't know what she had expected from him, but evidently it had been too much. That always happened to her, though, didn't it?

"Had a fun night?" she asked, perhaps a little too harshly. He flinched; looked guilty. He had. She supposed she didn't blame him. He was a man with needs, and they weren't tied in any way beyond being comrades and partner—brother and sister more like—in battle and friends. Why would he refrain when she gave him no reason to? Still, it stung, and she hated herself for letting it do so.

"Um…"

"Ah! There you are! Good, we caught you before you left," a soft voice rang out, and both looked to find a woman clad in a cloak with satchel and lantern in hand. By her shoes, it was obvious she was a courtesan, and when she pulled down her hood, her elegant hair and bit of make-up showed. She set the lantern down before pulling off the satchel and holding it out. She smiled as she turned her eyes to the young man, almost a little too appreciatively. "We didn't want you to leave without the gift to repay your… efforts—and a little something for the new brothel."

"Thank-you, my Lady," Ezio smiled, taking the satchel and attaching it to the saddle. "Ghita will appreciate it, as will your sisters, I imagine."

"Oh, yes. They were quite eager to have you to themselves. They've made the others jealous," the woman giggled, causing Ezio to look at Catherine cautiously. She refused to look at him, though, busying with her saddle again.

"Yes, well… ah, they will find themselves plenty of other men to take up their attentions. They are in sore need of it," he chuckled, much to the girl's amusement, although the redhead thought it fairly fake.

"Oh, of course—but _you_ will always have a special discount. So do come visit… and remember to come back here," she purred and stood on her tip-toes to give him a kiss. Ezio tilted his head slightly so it landed on his cheek, much to the woman's bemusement. She gave him a quick wink, smile, and wave before pulling her hood back up, taking up her lantern and heading off. Again, Ezio looked to Catherine, but she ignored it as much as she could—which was to say, not at all—and mounted her horse. It hurt some, but she ignored that, too. Besides, her chest and stomach were in much tighter knots that hurt even worse.

"Right, well. If you're _done_—can we get going? We need to cover as much as ground as possible before we camp for the night," she replied bluntly, briefly looking at him.

"Catherine," he tried, coming closer, but she turned her horse. He sighed as he mounted and came up beside her. "Catherine, that wasn't… what it looked like."

"Ezio, it's fine," she replied, and when he tried to speak, she repeated it. "Really, it is. You have needs, and they provide for them. Let's just get home, alright? The sooner, the better."

Catherine set her horse into a trot then, hoping to get her mind off things; even tried to focus on how her legs already hurt and her actual wounds there ached more. Her arm might later, too. Sadly, she soon found it did not work as well as wanted.

**-O-**

**May 2, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Waking was more difficult than Catherine thought. Or rather, the getting up part. Things hurt, which was silly. It shouldn't have, but it did, and she didn't mean just the hurt from the night before. No, her legs hurt the most. Her wound had been aggravated by the saddle, and a quick check—she made sure Ezio wasn't looking—showed the scab had opened. It was an annoyance, but a quick re-bandaging would do her some good. Oddly enough, her arm ached, too, and when she checked she found the wound was a little red. A quick squeeze showed puss, much to her annoyance. Over all, it was fine and a re-wrap was all it needed in the end. It bothered her, though, using her arm to saddle her horse, and she couldn't help a hiss when she threw the saddle itself onto its back.

"What's wrong?" Ezio asked, having heard, and she sighed with closed eyes. She really hadn't wanted him to notice that it was more than just a re-bandage or that it bothered her more than she let on, but of course he would. Even if she was upset with him—not that she should be—he was too nice and too good to not notice, and she couldn't be mad at him for it.

"I'm just sore," she replied, lying anyways, and worked on adjusting things. She paused, though, when his hand grasped the saddle, keeping her from working. She sighed with exasperation and tuned towards him, frowning. "I'm _just_ sore."

"Really?" he asked, grasping her arm suddenly, just below the wound. She winced and then glared. Ezio was the one to sigh this time, and kept her from working still. "You're not fine. I heard you grumbling when you fiddled with your arm, and then you had to fix your leg, yes? I had to stay turned a long time."

"Ezio, I'm fine. I promise. I'm just sore. I don't need help," she grumbled back, trying to work again, but he held fast. She scowled as she turned towards him, but he remained just as adamant.

"Yes, you do, and you're being silly. Just admit you need some help. It's _okay_ to. I… look, I know… I know you're upset with me about last night, but I didn't meant to upset you. I'm sorry for what happened."

"Don't—," she began, gritting her teeth as she almost let her emotions get the better of her. She calmed, though, and let it out as best she could with a sigh. "Don't apologize for it. There's nothing to apologize for, anyways. I said I'm fine. And I mean it."

"Catherine, come on. I know you're mad, so let me make it up to you. Let me help you… or spend the rest of this trip—which lasts nearly the whole day, mind you—suffering. It's your choice, but I would highly suggest you let me help. Not only will you suffer, otherwise, but I bet you Annetta won't be happy, and you definitely don't want _that_."

Damn. He was right. Annetta _would _be furious with her. Mario would be mad, too. Claudia would probably get upset. Damn, damn, and more damn. She had a lot working against her, but her pride was standing firm, too. She bit her lip in her indecision as she folded her arms over her chest. She looked to Ezio and saw he was smirking. She glared. Damn him. He knew it all too well. He'd mentioned it, so of course he knew.

Jerk.

She groaned inwardly, knowing she was caught.

There was no use putting it off, she supposed.

Sighing, she kept on huffing, "Fine."

"Excellent!" Ezio laughed and promptly nudged her aside to situate her horse, but then kept the reigns in his hand as he walked the stallion to his steed. Catherine raised a brow as she followed and stood by him, waiting expectantly. He just grinned as he reached towards her, but then paused. "Promise not to hit me?"

She waited a while before snorting, "Fine."

Ezio grinned again before suddenly grasping her sides and lifting her up. She made a garbled sound of surprise as she found herself on his saddle, and then he climbed up behind her before she could protest. He kept on grinning as he took her horse's reigns and tied them to his saddle before grabbing his own, conveniently ending up with his arms around her. She hated to admit her cheeks were burning hot despite being mad at him.

"This is _not_ what I meant by helping," she grumbled, sending him an icy glare.

"Yes, well, it's what _I_ meant. Now don't fuss. Riding side-saddle will keep the saddle from aggravating your wound, and your arm need not be rubbed, either. Sounds like a solution to your problems, no?" he mused with a grin.

"Sounds like a way for you to get your paws on me," she barked back, refusing to look at him now. "Better behave, or I'm gonna push you off and I'll ride side saddle by myself. _You_ can walk."

Ezio laughed, "Alright, alright… I'll only keep an arm wrapped around when we trot. Otherwise, at your side—sound fair? But just know _I_ don't mind if you lean against me or get your 'paws' on me."

"Of course you don't… and yeah, I guess. Just don't get a boner."

He made an odd sounds, "A what?"

"Ugh, never mind. Just go and don't do anything funny. I'll sick Annetta on you if you do."

"Why do you hate me so?" he laughed as he kicked the horse into a trot, wrapping an arm around her as he said he would. She meant to nag at him for it, but the hold helped steady her more than she realized it would. So she allowed it—for now. Definitely not because she kind of liked it. Not at all.

"I don't hate you… you just piss me off a lot," she replied, shaking her head. Again, Ezio laughed.

"Well, I suppose that's a great deal better. Now, hold tight—I plan to trot them for a while."

She snorted, "I bet you do."

Ezio only laughed a third time, and then there was nothing more to say. There was only a long ride home with an inevitable lessening of anger along the way, a quarreling of playful words and jabs, and a great many slaps to hands that couldn't seem to keep still.

* * *

**35 **– _End_

* * *

**TMWolf: **_And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoyed the catzio fluff-it's always so hard to get sometimes, these dorks. They make it so hard *sighs*_

_Right. So. there was also some build up here, too... like mentions of Lorenzo's having people arrested already. Some of that bit will come up later briefly-just a mentions-but if you're a history buff or just read notes on the wiki, you know that a lot of the conspirators were actually killed within a week of the attack-some on the same day! But, hey, it is only BASED on actual events, but we'll play around with stuff anyways ;) Also, hope you AC fans know what letter Ezio was talking about! Bonus points if you do! xD And much work to be done for our two protagonists once they're healed up and the missions start coming. While the game has them ALL done in like five minutes, they'll take make longer story-wise... after all, the deaths of the conspirators goes on over almost a year, so I need some spacing for all that, ha ha. _

_Anyways, so Annetta is going to Monteriggioni, since she apparently IS supposed to be there, and Ghita is becoming the new Madame :'D surprise, surprise! And that's mostly all the surprises really, lol... and so until next chapter! _


	37. All Summer Long

**TMWolf: **_And it's update time! Right, so I'm on vacation next week, starting a two week one, but I should be able to update on time. We'll see~ Anyways, here's a long "montage" chapter to hopefully keep you satisfied until next update. _

_As usual (and totally have forgotten to put this lately whoops lol), how I write the canon is based upon my interpretation of events and information~_

_So for reviews-thanks so much for all of them, guys! They means a lot and I always appreciate them! Please feel free to leave any comments or questions. I'm always happy to answer so long as there's no spoilers :')_

_**Hale93:** Sorry Ezio doesn't seem very manly/serious right now. Really, it comes out because I don't have as many serious situations as I would like, but it's also because Ezio wasn't always serious-serious, and would get playful even during the game, so I try to balance it out. Also, the story focuses on Cat's POV in third person, and when Ezio is with her, he's more relaxed and able to be playful. She's almost an enabler of sorts, but she's also someone he trusts and can be not-serious around, so that's pretty why. He is serious when he needs to be, though, promise, and you'll see more of those moments to come. Sorry again if it he doesn't seem as serious as can be right now. He's still growing a little, too xD_

_**Lola: **Aww thanks so much! I'm so glad you love it! Updated are pretty much every other week so keep an eye out! :)_

_**xoxo: **Sorry, but it's not gonna be that easy ;D Just give it time, hahaha._

_Right, so I think that's all for that... the chapter is from Kid Rock's - All Summer Long. No connection with the lyrics, but the chapter is a montage spanning all of the summer, so... yeah. It fit xD_

_Anyways, on to the chapter! Enjoy! :'D_

* * *

**36 **– _All Summer Long_

* * *

**May 2, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

"Ow!" Ezio hissed, shaking his hand. Catherine, meanwhile, gazed ahead coolly, her hands back on the saddle pommel after having slapped the young man's.

"I told you—keep them on the waist," she snapped quickly, which only got a grumble from Ezio. He knew better, so of course he had nothing to say. Instead, he pouted and made huffing sounds. Being side-saddle, it was easy to look up at him with a tilt of her head and raise a brow. "Excuse me? Are you _pouting_? I told you the rules—you agreed to them. If you touch me, it better be on the waist."

"Yes, _my lady_," he sighed with exasperation, but did return an arm to her waist before urging the horses into a trot. Catherine turned her gaze back to the landscape, which had become exceedingly familiar. It was to be expected, though; they had passed by the closest village hours ago, and in the distance there were the flags raised high above the towers of the city. _Monteriggioni_ was not far at all, and soon the stone walls would be in sight. Not even thirty minutes and they'd be there, and Catherine was all too happy to be able to get there. As fun as the ride had been with Ezio using any and every moment to either go too low or too high making her smack him or the small talk they had about what fate awaited them at home, she was glad it would be over. Even side saddle, her legs were a little sore, although her arm and side did not hurt thanks to Ezio handling things. That, and she'd be happy to walk and sleep in her bed and eat more of Annetta's food.

First, though, they had to get home and have some chats.

Despite the fun on the road, she hadn't forgotten there were things to take care of. Ezio had finally managed to mention he'd sent word to Mario ahead of time _and_ gotten a letter the same night when at Paola's. The older man had mentioned that their courtesans had arrived with Annetta not far behind. Ghita was already getting the last preparations for the brothel done, too, and was ready to take up her roll. La Volpe's representative and men he sent to work for them were also there, and a decent-sized building that hadn't seen much use besides a supply storage was now serving as their home. They were currently decorating it and making it how they wanted, and after the city folk were assured they would never be stolen from—by word from Mario under threat of punishment—things were doing alright. Still, there might be tension yet until things were completely done and trust was built.

Beyond that, though, it meant their forces were exceedingly stronger than they had been in ages. Not only were there swords, they had secrets and swift hands. _Monteriggioni's_ prowess had been spreading, and with it so, too, would their forces. Mario had plans he wished to discuss, and some things she and Ezio had mentioned involved getting their people to _San Gimignano _and the country side, searching for secrets from guards, politicians, and anyone willing to talk, and relieving anyone with a bit more coin than they might need of their burden. It was something grand to consider, but if it worked, it would prove useful—especially when their enemy had gone into hiding.

Catherine sighed and turned her head towards him, "Stop—I'll ride into the city."

"Oh, no, no; you're hurt," he grinned, but she only rolled her eyes.

"I can ride the rest of the way plenty fine, thanks. Besides, do you actually want to give Ottavio any leeway? I know you enjoy torturing him on his bet—of which is still friggin' ridiculous," she rumbled, glaring slightly.

He waited a moment before grinning and slowing the horses, "You're right. I do. Payback for training, I guess. Thus… I shall concede to your whims, my dear lady. Who am I to say no to beautiful woman, after all?"

"You certainly never can," she hummed dryly, making him wince, but she ignored it as she slipped off. She winced herself when a tiny jolt went through the wound on her leg from the jarring, but then she walked it off to her horse. Ezio kindly relieved himself of the reigns and she was able to hop up. Briefly, she noted there was guilt in his features, and even more briefly, she was glad for it—almost cruelly so. She thought he deserved it, but that wasn't fair of her. He didn't deserve it in the slightest, really. She was just being petty and jealous—that was all.

She sighed slightly, looking to him, "Ready?"

"When you are," he nodded, looking to her almost cautiously.

"Then let's head home," she smiled back, earning one from him, and she urged her steed into a trot. He followed right after, and things were relatively quiet the rest of the way, which wasn't long at all. Sure enough, the gates were soon visible along with the improved stalls outside. Work was still in progress, with workers and supplies out, but already they had a handful more horses. They still had the same stable-hand, though, and he was happy to welcome them back and get their horses rested. In the meantime, they made for the gates where two mercenaries stood watch and welcomed them—along with those up top. The new flag was a nice touch, and showed all their enemies exactly who they were messing with. Once, that might have been a danger, but now they were much stronger and so displayed it with pride.

Catherine smiled, sharing in that feeling, and passed underneath. It felt good to be home and to see familiar faces and sights—and new ones, too. A pair of courtesan ladies clad in their alluring clothing passed by, waving, winking, and cooing at Ezio before walking on with giggles. The young man grinned sheepishly, coughing how they should move on. She couldn't help grinning a little bit to see him made so awkward by it around her, although it faltered as she realized he would probably go off on his own later to "introduce" himself. Again, she chastised herself. There was no reason to think such things or get upset over them. If Ezio wished to do it, then so be it—they had no obligation to one another.

"It's only been a few days, but the city seems so…" the young man began, stealing her thoughts back to the present.

She grinned once more, "Bigger? Well, there are more people. Just look at the visitors—so many new faces. The inn and taverns all around here must be packed."

"I know… it's… unbelievable, and we're not even fully repaired. Just imagine what will happen when it's all done!" Ezio laughed, head turning this way and that as they walked through the main street. The shops looked better than ever, and there were more than a few customers at each. Mario must have had the men working hard over the past few days, and with Vieri gone it gave more time to do so. At least, that was what Catherine figured—that, or she just hadn't noticed the state of things as well as she should have.

"I wonder if we'll expand in the open area around here—spruce up those farm homes or maybe grow some more vineyards. The last year has been good to the crops, and with the weather doing so good…"

Ezio hummed thoughtfully, "Selling our own wine rather than importing it _would_ be useful, although I know Uncle wanted to focus on armaments. We still need better equipment, and the city walls could always use more defenses now that the walls have been solidified."

"True… well, Claudia knows what to do and will figure out what can be done, and hey; the city has come really far in just a few years. No doubt it'll go farther even faster now," she added with her own thoughtful sound.

"I should think so… bah! What are we doing talking about such nonsense? We just got home! We can relax a little!" he laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She raised a brow, but he didn't move his arm. She supposed she should have, but she decided to let it be as she shrugged. She paused, though, as she realized he'd called this place "home"—even after having been in _Florence_. The notion made her smile, which he noticed and raised his own brow. "What are you smiling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Nothing, nothing. Just… glad to be home, too," she mused, freeing herself from his arm and trotting ahead. He made a confused sound before following right on her heels, and continued at her side as they made their way through the main road. Again, more familiar and new faces appeared, and then all were familiar after they ascended the stairs to the training area. At once they were bestowed with cheers and whoops and given claps on the shoulder by their fellow mercenaries. They had been well updated on things, and already there were words stirring in the country side. The enemy was on the run, and they would kill them all soon. For now, though, the two were left to return to the_ Villa_—at Ottavio's behest and order—as Mario and the others were waiting for them.

Sure enough, as soon as they entered there was a decent-sized group waiting for them. Claudia was the nearest and embraced her brother right away and then Catherine, professing her joy they were alright. Mario came next, also embracing them, though not as tightly. He congratulated them on their work—both in ending Francesco, and acquiring new allies. In regards to that, he motioned to Annetta and Ghita, whom stood side by side. The maid wore her usual garbs, but the former head maid of the _Villa_ had changed dramatically. Gone were her dull, casual robes, replaced with elegant shades of red and orange, adorned with gold trims and jewelry and fancy hair nets. Make-up was settled on her face here and there, transforming her into an enchanting beauty—one none would have expected. She carried herself much higher, too; there was a new aura about her in the way she smiled and spoke.

"So… you're the new head of the brothel, eh? Wouldn't have pegged you the type, to be honest," Catherine mused once she freed herself from Mario, making sure to avoid Annetta's scrutinizing gaze.

"There was no reason to show it with the brothel gone. I made better use of myself here in the _Villa_, but now that it's finished… Well, here I am," the woman smiled, spreading her arms to show herself.

"You will have to name it you know," Annetta spoke up a she reached to adjust one of Ghita's ornaments. "Mario did not bother to, so the honor should be yours."

"Oh, good—I had one in mind already."

"As do I!" Ezio suddenly laughed, gathering their attention. He winked playfully at the redhead. 'The Sultry Cat'!"

Catherine balked, "I—wait—_what? _How about we _don't_ call it that you weirdo!"

"Indeed. We are _not_ calling it that, my young Lord," Ghita replied coolly, narrowing her eyes enough to make the young man slink back a little with a cheeky grin. "No, I intend to name it _The Carnal Rose_."

"A fine name, my lady. I expect you will take care of it properly," Mario mused, though he grinned as he did so.

Ghita raised a brow, "If you mean I will ensure your men are well satisfied and I learn all the secrets there are from visitors here to all the countryside… then, yes. I will."

"Oh come now, I know the great importance of your work," he chuckled, but the woman only made an "mmhmm" sound.

"And you will need to keep it up—I expect there to be plenty of coin coming in. As per our deal, the more you bring in, the more budget goes to you and improving this place and those around," Claudia piped up, hands on her hip as she kept a knowing look on her face.

Ghita chuckled, bowing her head, "Of course, my dear. I assure you, once I am done with the ladies, you will have more coin than ever coming in. I only ask the expensive aromatics are acquired—they do wonders for business."

"She speaks truly—my sister uses a very special aphrodisiac and it… well, many customers are not new to her establishment," Annetta smiled, almost coyly.

"Then so be it. I will order some to begin with, and then you must provide your end," the young Auditore mused in return.

"Jesus, Claudia—when did you become such a savvy business woman?" Catherine mused, brow raised with a grin.

"What do you think _I've _been doing while you two have trained and been off doing your 'business'?" she quipped right back, huffing some.

"Ah, my little sister is growing up it seems. Before I know it you'll be showing the soldiers a thing or two," Ezio smirked, taking his little sister's hands in his. She smiled a bit back, squeezing lightly.

"Perhaps. But I am far less inclined to such brutish means—unlike someone."

The redhead pouted, "Hey!"

"Now, now; let us not squabble. Rather, let us celebrate my nephew and Catherine's victorious return. I believe a feast is in order, no?" Mario laughed, clapping Catherine's shoulder and looking between them all.

"I am afraid I must decline—I have ladies and new clients to attend to," Ghita bowed politely, and after a few farewells made her way out. Once the door closed, Annetta looked to them and motioned to the dining hall door.

"Supper is already ready. We were only waiting for your return."

"Ugh, I could use a good meal," Catherine smirked, looking to Ezio, whom returned it.

"As would I. Shall we?"

"Indeed we shall, and please—tell us all that happened," Mario added, venturing towards the room. The others made to follow, but Ezio paused as Claudia suddenly grasped his hand. He looked to her, head tilted curiously.

"And you will… speak of… how things are?" she asked softly. Catherine paused to look back at them, just as the older brother cupped his sister's cheek. She saw him smile and nod, and then she turned around to let them be and head in for supper.

**-O-**

"Ugh, I think I ate too much," Catherine laughed to Ezio after waving to Claudia, whom sauntered off to do more book work and speak with the architect. Mario, like-wise, went to discuss things, but also to see to his men. Annetta was busy tending to the household and working with her new fellow servants, which left things fairly quiet. The house was tidying down with supper having gone on a long time. There was much to talk about, after all, although a good deal of Templar plans had not been mentioned. However, all their talk of ideas of things for _Monteriggioni_ did, and it seemed many might come to fruition. It was a tantalizing thought, and both Mario and Claudia seemed to like them. There was plenty of money for it, too, or would be, and with the younger sister's work it would be no trouble at all. First, though, there were adjustments to be done on the city's weapons and armaments, and coin needed to be invested in the campaign in _San Gimignano_ to root out their enemy and spruce it up.

"I've not had a feast from Annetta like that in a long while—I feel like I've eaten too much, too," Ezio grinned, rubbing his belly.

She snickered, smacking it lightly much to his chagrin, "Be careful, or you'll get fat."

"You'd still love me if I was," he winked, getting an eye-roll from her.

"Pfft. I don't even love you now."

He feigned hurt, clutching his chest, "You're terrible! How can you not?"

"Because you're terrible, that's why," she snorted, pushing him away slightly before heading up the stairs. He followed right on her heels of course, and took her hand to place a kiss. She raised a brow, hand on her hip as he grinned. "I'm sorry, was I supposed to swoon?"

"I will catch you if you do," he winked again. Once more she rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away to brush by him.

"Don't count on it, you dork," she mused, shaking her head, and then pausing on the top. He caught up, of course, and leaned against the near wall, arms folded over his chest.

"Have I mentioned I enjoy your denial?" he purred, brow waggling.

"'Denial', huh? Well, I can guarantee there's absolutely nothing to be in denial about," she hummed, also folding her arms over her chest

"You reek of it."

"And you reek of delusion. Now, are we going to stand here arguing about whether or not I know myself to be in denial, or can I go sleep off my full stomach? We do have to start training again and go over more things with Mario while we wait to find the Pazzi."

Ezio waited a moment, watching her with what looked disappointment, and then sighed. His shoulders slumped as he pouted and stepped off the wall. He regarded her again before shrugging.

"Very well. You're no fun tonight, but—," he began, lifting a hand to stop he retort, "—not necessarily a bad thing. I need to speak to Mother. I've got something for her."

When she looked at him curiously, he smiled and shuffled through a pouch on his waist. He revealed a plush, white feather with only a few flecks of dirt on it. With a quick brush of his fingers it was clean again. Confusion remained on the redhead's face, and so his expression grew soft as he looked to the door of his mother's room.

"It's perhaps silly, but… remember when we returned from our fight with Vieri? I told you I was going to try this? Well, I did… I apologize for never mentioning it, but when I gave it to her… She spoke to me—thanked me. She smiled, too. I've been giving them to her every time I've found one ever since."

"So… feathers… is that… so she's… been… better?" Catherine asked softly, reaching towards it, but hesitating. Ezio put it into her hand for her, pushing her limb back to her as he nodded.

"She did not eat with us tonight, but… she _is_ better. She's spoken briefly, though you don't know it."

The redhead flushed, gently brushing the feather, "I, ah… I suppose I haven't… I um… Sorry, I… I just… I couldn't bring myself to… to see her."

"Catherine, it's alright... but perhaps you can make good on it now," he replied, and chuckled when she looked up, puzzled. He motioned to the door. "Go take it to her. Speak with her. I know it's been bothering you—I've seen you looking before, but I didn't think I should mention it just yet."

"Wha—oh, Ezio, no, I couldn't. It's your thing for her, and I don't… would she… would she even want to see me? I haven't even barely _looked_ at her ever since you got here!"

He grasped her shoulders gently, "Catherine, she wants to see you. Trust me. Just… go talk to her. Just give her the feather and bid her goodnight. That's all you need to do."

"But…"

"Catherine, _trust_ me. It's all you need to do. So go do it. And goodnight," he grinned almost cheekily as he gave her a small peck on the forehead before suddenly spinning around and heading off. She flushed madly, touching at the spot, and meant to growl at him, but he was gone through the hallway, out of sight. She groaned, looking down at the feather, and then to Maria's door. Her heart fluttered uneasily and with indecision in her chest, but Ezio had set her up damn good. She had the feather, and now she felt even guiltier for putting this off for so long. It had been so easy with all her work, but now—now she had the time and the means.

It almost wasn't fair.

Sighing deeply, Catherine rubbed the back of her neck before slowly, but surely making her way over. Like always, she paused before the door. She lifted her hand, ready to knock, and hesitated. Her guilt made her do it, she knew, and she hated herself for it. Ezio's encouragement was there, though—his assurance, especially. It helped. It was enough to make her bite her lip, suck in a deep breath of air, and rap ever-so-lightly on the door. She didn't hear an answer at first, causing her to waver, but she reclaimed her vigor, knocked once more, and entered.

Maria was kneeling beside her bed, adorned in her sleeping gown, with her head lowered in prayer. Just barely, Catherine could make out her whispers—her soft words to whoever might be listening. The redhead was able to really see her again after all this time, and her chest stung at the sight of her; to see her beauty wallowed some. It was not too far gone, and certainly she would still be considered beautiful, but there was a weariness to her; haggardness. She bore the weight of the world on her shoulders it seemed, and it had added a wrinkle or two along with a few strands of gray hairs. Even so, it was Maria, and the only true loss was the pride with which she had carried herself.

"Um…" Catherine began softly, glancing down at the feather in her hand, and then back to the woman. She did not even pause in her words, and so the redhead waited a moment or two before she realized the woman wouldn't stop. Swallowing, the redhead set the feather down in front of Maria on the bed and stepped back slightly. "I, ah… here. It's, uh… for you. Ezio said… he said you like these."

She waited for a moment, and just as she lost hope, Maria paused. Her words became silence and her head turned towards the object. Slowly, she reached out and grasped the feather gingerly. She brushed it slowly, and, just barely, Catherine saw a smile. Her heart fluttered with hope, and she waited again. She watched, too; noting how the woman brought it close to her breast, closed her eyes, and whispered a name—almost as if just mouthing it. She couldn't make it out either way, but the woman stood up and looked to the redhead. There was a light to her eyes that she didn't remember seeing in a long, long time.

"Catherine," she began, holding the feather as if it might break with the slightest touch, "thank-you. This means… a great deal to me."

"I, ah… of course. It… I, ah… Maria, it's… I, um… I'm sorry I didn't…" the redhead began, looking down at her hands as she fumbled over her words. How many things did she have to be sorry for? It seemed so many, but it wasn't enough. She wasn't sure it ever could be. Still, she had to try. "I'm sorry…"

"It is alright, my dear," the woman continued, reaching over to touch her shoulder gently. Catherine looked up, eyes wide. Maria smiled gently at her. "It is good to see you—to see how you have grown."

The redhead's cheeks grew warmer, and she reached up to grasp the older woman's hand, "I… I've… I've tried to grow—a lot. I hope, um…"

"You have. Take heart, my dear, and rest well. There is yet work to be done."

Maria gave one final smile and then pulled her hand away so she could walk over to a box on her dresser. Catherine watched her go, but not for much longer. She turned away then, smiling enough to where her cheeks hurt a bit as she slipped out the door. She walked briskly to her room, barely able to contain herself as she got into her own room. Once she shut the final blockade, she let out a silly laugh.

Finally—finally she could feel relief. Her fear and guilt could flutter away. She was able to giggle and laugh and feel _good_ for once about things and feel they could be better. With Maria, anyways. It just felt so damn good to finally know she didn't hate her and was _proud_—or at least seemed it—and hoped for more for her. It was the last thing she had expected, but always hoped for, and she had it. Sure, it made her silly, but it was worth it.

She did manage to temper some of her excitement, though—recalling the woman's words. Although she had the pride she had hoped for, there was still work to be done just as she said. There were still enemies to be killed, and it was only a shame they had to wait. Yet, at the same time, it gave her the moments she would need to revel in her newfound excitement, and so she didn't mind. No, she looked forward to it with great vigor, and so eagerly awaited the dawning of the new day.

**-O-**

**May 28, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"So... any news?" Catherine asked as she lounged against Mario's desk just as the older man came through the entryway. By his unhappy face, she knew the answer. She wasn't surprised, really. It had been incredibly "quiet" over in _San Gimignano_ besides the remnants of the Pazzi forces that were starting to retreat. Sort of. They weren't entirely gone, and it was thought they would try to regroup and retake the city, so they had to be ready. Unfortunately, if the Pazzi massed in full they _could_ reclaim the city—for a time. If Mario gathered his forces, too, then it could be managed, but right now they were playing it carefully. That, however, meant things were moving very slow. Little, if anything, was happening, and their enemy had proven to be smart: they were in hiding. _Deep_ hiding.

"Nothing more than the usual," Mario sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He paused, though, glancing around, and frowned. "Where is my… oh, for the love of—do _not_ tell me that boy is at the _Rose_ again!"

Catherine sighed, shrugging, "Probably. I don't rightly now. He went off after practice. Said Claudia wanted him to deliver something. Probably to the _Rose_."

"I will need to have a talk with him again… and perhaps Ghita to keep him away—he is taking away from his time for work," the older man grumbled, and, frankly, the redhead couldn't agree more.

In part, of course, because she was jealous. Ever since the brothel had been brought into full functionality and the courtesans arrived, he'd given them attention—a lot of it. More than the other ladies. She knew why, of course. They gave him bonuses or docked his own fee. Sure, she understood he had needs as a man, but she had hoped. That was her error, she supposed, but it still bothered her with how he acted. All his teasing and professing some "affection" for her or acting like he was sorry when she caught him or that it was some mistake—and for what? It was starting to piss her off at this point, and she didn't get _why_ he seemed to flaunt it at her! Not to mention he had slacked some lately, even if there wasn't much to do. Running off after training or using it to do "errands" for his sister.

And the worst part?

She somehow managed to forgive him. Every. Damn. Time.

All he had to do was make some quick joke or smile that smile of his that made her melt a little on the inside and she was able to forget about how much of an ass he was being. He just made it so hard to stay mad, even if he did it over and over and over and over _again_ and _again_ and _again_. She should have hated him by now, but she liked him way too much—far more than she should, and she kept hoping. She was a hopeless hoper and it was ruining her, but she couldn't help it.

She just wished he would stop acting—if he was—and be straight with her. She couldn't stand this facetious whatever it was of his.

But she would, because she was that pitiful.

"Well, so… what's the plan then? Just… keep here until the Pazzi show again?" she asked after a moment, leaning back on her arms as she tilted her foot back and forth.

Mario sighed with a nod, "Unfortunately. Not much else to be done, and I would rather you train here while my men scout. That… and there is other, more important work you might do."

"More important than getting rid of all the Pazzi and their helpers?" she mused, brow raised. The older man chuckled as he pulled out a letter from his pouch. She recognized the seal—it was that of Lorenzo's. Another mission from him.

"So, he finally got something for us, huh? What did it say?" she asked, noticing the seal had already been broken. Ezio had expressed some unhappiness about having what he considered business between he and Lorenzo read by his Uncle without permission, but Mario did it only to ensure it was not beyond his abilities. Who better to judge that then their teacher? Or at least provide council. Ultimately, it was up to either her or Ezio to go on the mission or not. Mario was giving it to her, though, which meant he thought it within their capabilities.

He replied as she read, "It mentions a man in the _Signoria_—back in _Firenze_. He was working with the Pazzi to overthrow the Medici. Lorenzo asks you take him out, but quietly."

"As they usually go… near the Church of San Lorenzo, eh? But not for long… Says we have days at most before he leaves the city or at least out of our reach," the redhead hummed, folding the letter and putting into a pocket in her vest.

"Then you must head out quickly. If you leave now, it will be only a little pass midnight, but perhaps tomorrow morning should be better?" he inquired, watching her curiously.

She smiled for a moment, "We'll need to prepare first—we can decide based on that. I need to go pull Ezio away, and if he's where I _think_ he is… it might take him a bit to get dressed."

"Indeed… then go see about him. I will prepare your gear and horses. They will be ready at your word."

"Jeez, sounds weird hearing that—makes it sound like I'm in charge. Grooming me to take your spot, hmm?" she smirked playfully.

Mario laughed, "While I do not doubt you would make a fine commander one day… I am afraid that is not a spot for you. And I do not mean that you are unworthy when I say that, only…"

"The men would never go for a woman as a commander, I know. Me being one of them—kind of—and helping Ezio is one thing, but commanding them like you do? I may be from the future where women leaders and found all over, and there have been some in the past, but I know it wasn't so much here. So don't worry. Your confidence is enough," she replied, grasping his shoulder warmly.

"Know you do good work with Ezio—as an Assassin. You are helping a great many people."

She grinned, "Don't worry—I know. Just wish it wasn't all so complicated. What with the Pazzi and their politics and then having the law technically after us, but we work for the Medici… and then… well, that gosh darned Piece of Eden and all…"

"Indeed," Mario mused, glancing down where she kept the Clock hidden. He looked back up at her. "Have you… learned more from it? Understood your… 'power' more?"

Catherine groaned, shoulders slumping, "No! It's so frustrating. I've tried to figure out how it activates, but there's nothing. I only know what the 'god' said or whatever, but I know it kept me from being killed… but kept me from saving someone, too. I don't control it at all."

"Do you think you can?"

"…I don't know," she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I want to, though—I don't want to be forced to do anything by it. I know some things I can't apparently stop, but… being able to use it to avoid _having_ to use it to kill people like that… I'd want to find the way. I can't say it enough that no one should have this power. I wish I could show you what I could do so you could understand…"

"I understand it pains you, and that is reason enough. We will find a way to work with it—to give you the advantage you need. We will make time."

"Mario, come on; you have other things to worry. I'll figure it on my own… somehow."

The older man grasped her shoulder this time, "Catherine, it is true I have a great many things I must deal with, but this too—this Piece of Eden—is also one of these things… especially when it is connected to you and my nephew. This is just as important, so I will make time."

"Mario…"

He lifted his hand to quiet her, "I have said I will do it, and I will. When you return from your errand from Lorenzo, I will have something. With any luck it might help you decipher the intent of this Clock of yours."

"Jeez, Mario… how is it you're so good, huh?" Catherine laughed after a moment, shaking her head. The older man laughed with her, and after another short pause, she suddenly embraced him. He blinked in surprise, but returned it, and then she stepped back, grinning. "Thanks. I'll try and get Ezio going tonight so we can start right away. God, I hope it works."

"As do I… now go on. As I said, I will have the horses and your things ready. You have work to do."

"Indeed I—well, _we_ do. Thank-you, Mario. We'll send word of our success and be back as soon as we can," Catherine smirked back, and then she headed off.

**-O-**

**June 1, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Wait—where are you off to?"

Catherine paused at the _Villa_ entrance to look back at Ezio, whom waited by the stairs with a raised brow. Above on the banister Claudia also paused, looking on curiously. She wasn't surprised, really. For one, they had finished supper maybe an hour ago and spent the rest talking about projects to come—like the winery, which was soon to be put in order—so of course they would be around to watch her go. She supposed she should have waited until they were gone, but she was running a bit late. Secondly, it was a little unusual to be heading out at the moment. Normally they all settled and did things before bed, but she had plans tonight—specifically with Mario. Though she disliked it, the only time the Commander had found for them to begin working on her Clock was when others would not be around; that is, when the sun had gone down and everyone was heading for bed.

Thus, she had started to depart to meet Mario at the training grounds when Ezio and Claudia caught her in the act.

Not that she would tell them why she was meeting. No, she couldn't stomach telling either of them—especially not Claudia, who still knew nothing of the truth. Another guilt she would need a long, long time to come to terms with and get over. One day she would tell the young woman, but not now. Hell, she knew she could never tell _either_ of them about what the Clock could do, which made it worse, but she would endure. This was too much to share with them.

"I was going to see Mario about my gear and sword. There was no time during training and then we got caught up with our talk. I'll see you tomorrow to kick your butt," she lied, grinning smugly. It was enough to fool him; he rolled his eyes as he shook his head and bid her good luck—Mario hated tardiness. She gave a goodnight in reply and headed out into the night.

She found Mario leaning against the training ring, two lamps on the ring's edge, though he stood up straight and took up the lights when she arrived. They both only nodded to each other before he gave her one and began to walk around the ring to the stairs. She raised a brow, but followed anyways. When asked where they were going, he just mentioned "away from eyes", and so she let it be. It was a good idea; if they did anything in the city, someone was bound to see, and she wanted this kept secret. She owed him her thanks, but she knew the best way to show it was figuring out the damned Piece of Eden.

She had to raise a brow, though, as Mario took them out to the city and to the right, going out far into the shadows. She followed dutifully, though; she trusted him, and he was doing this for her. To question him would be rude. However, she was thankful it didn't take long for him to bring her to a small path through the hillside, which came out to an opened area with a decent dirt patch. It was to there he motioned her to one side and he the other, both setting their lamps down at their feet.

"Here. It is secluded well enough. We might see what can be done. Now… take it out, and tell me how it worked before," he spoke, gesturing at her pocket. She nodded and pulled it out. She could just make out its features in the dim light, but she knew every feel and edge of it after her endless groping and hoping it would work for years. She sighed deeply as she thought on it, recalling every time it had worked so far.

She bit her lip slightly, "The first… was when Ezio almost died. Then again when Lorenzo's brother was going to, but that was different. With Ezio it stopped time and I was… elsewhere—I was able to cut the lights. The other time it just made me not move. But then… when I was fighting the guards—any time that night that I was in trouble… that I was… that I was sure I would die… it activated. It saved me, I think. Gave me the chance to avoid death—so I could do what I'm 'supposed' to do."

The older man hummed as he rubbed his chin, "So it will only work when it needs you to do as it has been commanded… and also to protect you. Because it needs you. It will keep you from death, but not injury."

"Seems so. I don't always remember the exact moment when it does it, but I've always been panicking or I feel like there's no way out."

"Mmm… perhaps we should recreate those moments?" he inquired, but she could only shrug.

"Maybe… so, I guess you, uh, have to try and 'kill me'?" she grimaced slightly and Mario frowned some.

"So it seems… just know we cannot do this long if we do not want to seem suspicious. At most an hour."

She nodded, "That's fine. With any luck you can get this to activate soon enough. It shouldn't take more than this… right?"

"It should not, but we must always be ready—this thing has great power. Great knowledge. It may not be so easy to control it—if it _can_ be controlled."

"I… right," she replied, lips creased firmly together. She put the Clock into her pocket and drew her blade, getting into stance. "Let's not waste time then."

Mario drew his blade, "Indeed. Let us learn of this thing—and help you master it."

Catherine only nodded, and they began.

**-O-**

**June 10, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine cursed as she swung her blade up, catching Mario's, which bore down on her. Her arms ached, but as the seconds passed nothing happened. No wildly racing heart. No growing warmth in her pouch. No time stopping. No lights. Nothing. They had worked for ten nights now, hoping it might work, and that she just needed time, but their efforts were in vain it seemed.

Mario deflected her blade and held his to her throat while she lifted her hands in surrender. He waited a few good seconds before pulling away and helping her up. She sighed as she brushed herself off and reclaimed her blade. She looked to her commander once done, and after shrugging, let her shoulders slump.

"Nothing."

Mario hummed, "What could it be? We have been at this long enough—surely it should have worked by now…?"

"I dunno… I guess… well, I know I'm not _scared_ like I was before. I don't get as worried."

"Because you know I will not kill you," he hummed, rubbing his chin.

She nodded, "Yeah… I guess… and then… well, truth be told… I was also worried because well… if I died… well, yeah. A lot of the what ifs—because I thought I _would_ die. Here I know I won't."

"Indeed… perhaps we should change that," the older man rumbled, to which the redheaded woman raised a brow. He lifted his blade. "I admit I have been holding back because I did not wish to harm you, but now… now we must be serious. This is a match to the death, and I will not hold back. If you do not fight at your full strength, you will be cut down."

"Uh… wait, what? Oh, wait, okay, no I get it. Alright… I just hope that works. I always had a bad habit of never treating practice like the real thing, although I always did the real thing better than practice," the redhead chuckled some, although she frowned when she realized Mario's expression did not change. She kept her blade ready, trying to figure him out. Was he serious? But he couldn't be. He would never try to kill her. Yet, the way he held himself; the way his gaze was dark and fierce—it made her worry. It made her fear.

She swallowed uneasily, "Mario?"

She barely had time to react as the older man was suddenly on her, slashing at her side. She somehow blocked it, wincing at the strength of it, but then side-stepped before moving backwards. Mario came at her still, slashing this way and that. Every time she just barely managed to block, and it was getting harder and harder. Her feet constantly moved, but felt like they were crisscrossing all over, so she was bound to trip soon enough. She hadn't realized Mario was so skilled—he had been beatable in the ring! Ezio had beaten him, or had the older man just been holding back? It certainly seemed like it, and she struggled more as he kept pushing her this way and that, smacking her with the back of his hand, and then striking right after. He was relentless, and ultimately she fell. He was on her at once, bearing down. He raised his arm and sliced in an arc, aiming straight for her.

Time slowed, and by his face she knew he meant it. He had from the start, and her heart raced this time. By God it raced, and she feared death. She feared her failure would finally kill her, and she only had the slightest flicker of doubt with her commander; to know he _could_ kill her. That he would. It made it all the worse, and she begged silently to be saved.

Her pocket grew warm, and just as the blade neared her face it stopped. Everything stopped. The light briefly flared, and suddenly it was made of light. She gasped, sucking in much needed air, and scrambled away. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the scalding hot item. She stared, wide-eyed at her commander, and then to the Clock. She had done it. _They'd_ done it. It had activated. She had the Clock's power at her disposal. Not that she would use it here, but to know it had _worked_—that now she knew why it worked; it was uplifting.

_'How to stop it, though?'_ she mused, looking down at it. She tried willing it. She tried to tell it she was fine and it should stop, but that didn't work, so instead she thought on _why_ she thought it worked. It did so when she thought she would die, but she was safe now. Yet it didn't stop automatically. So what else could there be? A thought came to mind as she realized her heart was still racing; much more-so than just from exhaustion or effort. The thought formed a notion and an idea, and she began to breathe in deeply, willing her heart to calm down. It never really did do as she commanded, but the breathing worked. She felt her body relax and heart slow down, and then—a quick flash.

The world was back to normal.

Mario's swing finished, blade smacking the ground where her body had once been, and he stumbled slightly from the shock of it. He spun around to find her, eyes wide. She grinned in response, and a smile emerged.

"You did it."

"_We_ did… but, yeah. It activated. I think… and maybe it's crazy, but… I think it's based on my heart beat—on like our fast it is. If it's in panic mode, it activates to save me, but when I calm down it stops. I think. Pretty sure, anyways," she explained, although it was really a guess. She thought it was a good one, though.

"Mmm… that makes some sense. Do you think you could do it again?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, "If I was about to die… yeah? Not sure I can make myself get panicked. Maybe. I've gotten an adrenaline rush from remembering my sports once, so… maybe? I dunno. I'd have to try on my own."

"We can try again this way tomorrow," Mario mused as he came over. He met her gaze before clasping her shoulder. "I am sorry for forcing you through that, little one. I did not mean to cause you fear or pain, but I thought it the only way."

She smiled a bit, "I know. I mean… yeah, it was a little, uh… well, I admit I got worried, but I know you. You wouldn't hurt me—not really."

"Still, I owe you an apology, and I fear I may have to do so again."

"I understand. I think that was enough for one night, though," she chuckled, and her commander did the same. He clapped her shoulder before grabbing his lantern and sheathing his blade.

"I think so, too. We have made good progress, though. Tomorrow, we shall make more."

Catherine grinned as she got her things and followed him, "Damn right we will. Now come on old man—let's get some much needed rest."

"Call me that again and you will not rest for a month," Mario snorted, giving her a quick glare, but she just laughed. Not long after, so, too, did he.

**-O-**

**June 24, 1478**

**Florence, Italy**

Ezio hissed as Catherine dabbed at his wound with some alcohol, and she gave a sympathetic smile in return as she used the water-soaked towel next. The cut thankfully did not require a doctor, but it was enough that it bled. It was in an awkward spot, too—right on his shoulder blade where it was too hard to reach. Thus, she was needed to clean it, and the job required some patience and dirty jokes and innuendoes from the patient. She tolerated them with a grin, and took some satisfaction by stopping him mid-joke by dabbing the wound so it hurt just right. Unfortunately, it wasn't his only wound, but it was certainly the worst. The others were more minor scratches and a hefty bruise on his side.

"You shouldn't have gotten cocky, you know," she hummed, inspecting her work. Seeing it was mostly done bleeding, she placed a piece of cotton cloth to help soak up any leaks. "Also, gunna wrap it, so will need your help. Hand me the bandages."

Ezio grunted as he did so, using his opposite arm to hand them back, "I wasn't being cocky! I just… was careless."

"You were _cocky_," she repeated, setting the start of the wrap on the cotton fabric and going around his back. He didn't need prompting as he pulled it across his chest, and she repeated the process, with a few wraps over his shoulder and under his arm.

"Fine, fine—I was _cocky_," he huffed, no doubt with a severe pout on his face. He _had_ been over confident and careless, though; thus the wound. They had been sent to take care of a continent of guards. Normally, that would be easy, but these all happened to be Brutes—the largest there were. No easy thing to beat, and their only real weakness was their slowness and the tiny gaps between their armor that their hidden blades could get through. They had to take care of them, though—the guards had planned to attack Lorenzo's home, so they had to do it or their ally could face a terrible fate. For it, they called in help from Mario's mercenaries and even employed smoke bombs, but it was a hard battle, and she was only so lucky to come away with bruises, scrapes, and one small cut on her forearm that was taken care of.

"Next time just watch out behind you. You're lucky I was close by," she hummed, recalling the moment. Again, the Clock had activated—just before the Brute had tried to use his axe on Ezio's back. She used her power to slash at his light. It didn't last long enough to do all she wanted, but the wound her companion had was made to be how it was now instead of worse. She liked to think it was because she had controlled the Clock more-so this time. Maybe. She wanted to think it, anyways, but she wasn't sure even after all the work she and Mario were doing, and the progress they had made—however small.

"I know, I know. You don't have to remind me," he huffed, causing Catherine to frown a little as she stitched the bindings together.

"There. You're good," she spoke and waited as he turned around. She couldn't help staring for a moment or two before looking up at his face. He had noticed, of course, and smirked. She immediately flushed, grasped his under shirt, and shoved it into his chest. "Get dressed. Leo should be back soon, anyways, and he wanted to make sure we had a good supper."

"A special dinner?" the young man mused, brow raised. He smiled knowingly. "I wonder why."

"Well, for one, he hasn't seen us for a while, so it's special," she hummed right back, arms folded over her chest. She grinned back, though. "But… the other is because, and do try and act surprised here, buuut… it's because it's your birthday."

"How ever did you remember?" he snickered, pulling on his shirt and buttoning it up.

Catherine chuckled, "I have no idea. Although Claudia's little letter she sent with me about remembering it helped. Oh, and ah… sorry we had a mission on your birthday. I didn't think we'd get this new message right before we left after that one conspirator we killed. Sorry you got hurt on your birthday, too. And, y'know, we're not home… although Claudia said we'd have a huge feast once we were back and Mario has something for you, I bet, and probably uh… Ghita, uh, too, and all. But yeah… Sorry things kinda went… yeah."

Ezio sighed softly as he leaned back, careful to mind his wound. He glanced to his other gear, but left it off as he looked to her. She figured some of his ire was because of that. He had hoped to return home before his birthday since the previous mission had only taken a day or two, but then another pigeon had come up, and it had taken longer than they thought to find the guards and then wait for them to show.

He waved his hand, "It's fine. I admit, I'm a bit upset, but… it's not all bad. I have you here to celebrate it with. And Leonardo, too. That's not so bad."

"No, I guess it's not," she replied softly, cheeks flushing some. She shifted in her seat before pausing, thinking as she bit her lip. She glanced over to where her pack was. "Um… well… it's uh… it's a little early… but… I think it's time to give you your present. I wanted to wait until maybe when we got back buuut…"

"Present? A kiss?" he winked playfully, and she gave him a pointed look. He snickered some. "Well, a man can dream. You can always give it as an extra one?"

"I don't know where your lips or face have been, so no thanks. Now calm down and wait. I think… well, I hope you like it," she smiled sheepishly as she made her way to the pack. From it she pulled a small, wrapped item; the shape somewhat a give-away despite the thick cloth. She kept it behind her back as she returned to her seat and then waited a moment, testing him, and once he gave her an expectant look she revealed it to him. His brow raised as he took it and gingerly removed the wrap. The other brow lifted to meet the other as the shimmer of metal appeared, and soon the duller shade of a hilt. It wasn't anything too big or fancy, but it was a decent-sized dagger with special engraving put into it. The edge was lined barely, and at the hilt was an "A" with flamboyant designs around it over the very same shield that adorned the walls of _Monteriggioni_. A way to make it officially his and maybe something special.

"It's uh… well, it's just a dagger—I couldn't get a proper sword with all the fancy stuff in time, but I thought a dagger would do, and, um… so it has the 'A' for Auditore, of course, and then the family crest. Oh, and the grip is leather I had them stain red with some gold mixed in to match everything. Anyways, ah… it… well, I hope you like it. I wasn't really sure what to get you to be honest, but I thought… well, I thought this would be nice," Catherine rambled, fingers twiddling together a bit nervously. She even looked away while Ezio's attention remained on the blade, but she looked down at her hands when she felt warmth on them—his hands. They squeezed hers and she looked up to find him smiling and there was this softness in his eyes. It made her cheeks warms and heart race a bit.

"Catherine, I love it. Thank-you. I'll carry it on me and cherish it always," he told her softly before retracting his hand to run his fingers along the engraving and the edge.

She chuckled, "So—better than a kiss, right?"

"Well… maybe this once. But I'm still up for it," he winked, to which she laughed.

"Sorry, but I think this will have to do. So… well, I'm glad you love it. I had hoped you would," she smiled a bit stupidly now.

"I would love anything you gave me," Ezio smiled right back, and her cheeks grew yet a little warmer.

"Jeez, don't say embarrassing stuff like that, you dork," she huffed, although her lips were still curved upward even as she looked to the side.

"But I like saying them—you get like this. It's… endearing," he smirked, leaning closer. She paused, giving him a look, and folded her arms as she leaned forward.

"Oh, I see. Trying to worm your way into a kiss. Good luck, lover boy," she snorted, just daring him.

He inched a little closer, "Oh, come now. I am just a man speaking the truth. You are quite pleasant when you get flustered. It's fun."

"And you are full of hot air, which isn't nearly as enjoyable," she hummed, letting her arms brace on her knees. Vaguely, she noted their faces weren't far apart, and for the briefest moment she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. It was fleeting, though—and silly—so it was gone, though the remnants lingered.

"Know what is, though?" he smirked.

"What?" she relented, brow raised as she gave him a look.

He suddenly left a peck on her cheek and laughed as he pulled back, "A kiss."

"Wha—oh, you turd!" she snapped, rubbing at her cheek, and even grabbed the wrap of her present to throw at him. He leaped up and away, though, out of reach, and she huffed, arms folding over her chest. "Gunna whoop you later."

"No, I don't think you will," he grinned, winking. "You enjoyed that—I can see you trying not to smile. Your blush doesn't hide it well."

"You won't be able to hide the new bruise to your face well if you don't hush," she ground back, but he was right. She hadn't hated it—no, she'd enjoyed it, and it made her heart flutter, and she only hated not being sure he meant it. She just wished he could be _serious_ about how he felt—if he did at all.

"Oh, Catherine," Ezio sighed dramatically as he returned to his seat, lounging playfully. "Any other man might find you so off-putting with those threats of yours… but I know you better. You wouldn't ruin this pretty face."

She snorted, looking at him up and down, and then smirked, "You know what? You're right. I wouldn't want to ruin your _only_ asset."

He scowled, "Hey! That's not fair… and why are you channeling Federico?"

"Wait—what? Oh, hey no… did he—did he pull that on you, too?!" she laughed loudly, and the young man's huffiness confirmed it. "Maybe I am. Hey, just what I need to put you in your place."

"Hardly fair."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh my God, the big baby is showing his face. If it wasn't your birthday, I might have to spank you."

"I didn't realize how much of the dominating type you were, kitty-'Cat! How will I ever restrain myself around you?" he purred, brow waggling.

"When I smack you upside the head that's how," she bit back, and he only laughed in return. In the end, she laughed, too, and it just felt good to do that—to act so silly. She didn't know why, but it did, and she sat there, staring at him. Her chest swelled to see him happy and to just be around him. She only wished she didn't have restrain herself so much. She wished she could be confident enough to just say _something_ of how she felt, but she was too much a coward, and even when she did remember it was generally a bad time. Now was perfect, though, wasn't it? Yet, she was still a coward, and so only chuckled as she leaned back, smiling.

"Happy birthday, Ezio."

**-O-**

**July 3, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine half-sighed, half-groaned as she leaned back in the chair in Mario's room, looking down solemnly at the Clock resting on the surface before her. Scattered around were papers; some messages from Lorenzo, others reports, and some maps. It was all a big jumble, but not nearly so jumbled as her efforts to make the damned Piece of Eden work. Her work with Mario had brought forth some progress, or at least told her _how_ it _might_ work, and after multiple moments of it activating—even if only briefly because she'd slowly begun to master calming her heartbeat—she had begun to think her hypotheses was right. Unfortunately, trying to get that hypotheses to work was much harder.

Needless to say, it wasn't easy to make one panic just with one's thoughts and trick the body, thus tricking the Clock. She had tried enough times to know, and although she _could_ get a slight rush of adrenaline when she thought of those near-death moments, it still wasn't enough. It would react, but she needed to do more than that—she needed to be able to control it. She didn't care what the God said, she _would_ have a say in things. She wouldn't be enslaved to it and use it as only it wanted if she felt it wasn't right—not unless she was sure it had to be. If she could spare or save lives, though, she would. She had to. It was the only way she could think to make up for all the death she'd done by it; all the times she'd played God, in a way.

For now, though, she was stuck, and it was awful.

"No luck, I take it?" a familiar voice called out, and Catherine looked up to find Mario there, a plate of food in hand. Her stomach growled at once, and she was all too happy to scarf down some of the roast Annetta had made. It made some of her disappointment leave, but not all as she nodded to the Commander and glared at the thing.

"I can get excited, but it won't work. Well, maybe like once or twice, but otherwise nothing. I can't pretend I'm dying, I guess," she huffed, flipping it over as if that were some fitting punishment.

Mario clasped her shoulder, "Do not worry, little one; you will figure out its secrets. We already discovered the one, and you mentioned you think you know exactly what it is you do in that… _place_?"

"Kinda?" Catherine hummed before taking another bite. "It's… kind of beyond you and this time, but… it's like I can… alter reality, I think is the best way to put it. There's limits, but I can alter it, though. I think. It's all I can really find that works, anyways. I mean, does that make sense?"

"Admittedly, no. But such power is not easily understood, and certainly it _is _beyond me, but if this will help you in your endeavor and make you stronger, then who am I to question it? I would only urge caution, as always, and to not let it cause you grief."

"Ugh, if only. I _wish _it wouldn't, but just having it bring me grief. I shouldn't have it at all," she grumbled, huffing some.

Mario chuckled, "Still, you know what I meant… although, I take it this means you are finished for the day?"

"Probably. It's late if Annetta had to make you make sure I eat. She knows I avoid her if I'm too late now," the redhead mused, glancing to the doorways—just in case. The maid could be quite the mother hen, and it was never fun for the chicks. "So… yeah. I'm done for the day. Sooo… anything on your end? Any news?"

"Yes, but not exactly good," the older man replied, folding his arms. Catherine frowned with concern as he went on, "The Pazzi have amassed their forces and are attempting to reclaim the area. They have more than I thought, and the Papacy is on their side, giving them even more strength than we realized. Of course no one knows the Pope has sanctioned this, but the Thieves' scouts and the Courtesans have heard rumors circling and found letters like the ones here."

Catherine paused to look at the paper he pointed to, finally noting it mentioned the Pazzi. Mostly Ezio had gone over these and given her updates, and she left it at that since he didn't leave her out. However, for right now she picked them up and read.

"This is more than we have at _San Gimignano_, isn't it?" she asked, chewing her lip.

He nodded, "Yes. I will have to pull my men back here to begin amassing our own forces properly. I hoped Lorenzo might even be able to send his own troops, but politics may hold him back. Ezio plans to write to him soon, though."

"If these numbers are right, then, yeah, we'll need them. The men aren't necessarily more skilled or stronger, but these are some decent numbers. We'll lose the city there then—at least until we can get rid of the figure heads, right?"

"Indeed. If we can cut off the snakes' heads, then even the Pope will falter and think twice—especially if there is backlash. I expect there will be, too. The Pazzi are scared despite their numbers, and if we begin to pick them off one by one they were get careless and more desperate. The people will suffer, however, and though I dislike the thought, it means they will be hated, which will make things easier."

"Yeah… speaking of… has there been any word on the men Lorenzo told us about?" Catherine asked, looking up from the papers.

Mario paused, rubbing his chin, "Well… there has been… _potential _sightings of the monk, Antonio Maffei. It seems he is panicked already. Some say his sanity is waning, but these are only rumors. However, the 'sightings' have been within _Tuscany_. It may be very well that he will show himself soon."

"Then we need to keep an eye out, and Ezio and I have to train more… probably need to set the Clock aside for a bit."

"Possibly, but for now do not think too much on it. These are just rumors. Once we have confirmation he has been spotted, we will begin. And once he shows himself… well, you will provide _Italia_ a much needed service."

"No kidding… oh, did you mention it t Ezio yet?" Catherine asked as she ate a bit more of her food. When he shook his head she nodded. "Mmkay. I'll let him know then. Do you think you can keep a few mercenaries near the city? We might need the back-up."

"Of course. Most of them are under cover, anyways; Maffei will not even know their loyalties lie elsewhere. But, again, do not worry; I will handle all of that while you and Ezio focus on your training and what missions you have left from Lorenzo—is there not another?"

"Yeah, I think so? I'd have to go ask Ezio. He went to check the coop this evening and I came here and all. Writing letters and reports. Blegh."

"Now you know some of my agony," Mario winked, patting her shoulder. "Well, relax for tonight, little one. You have done well. Just be patient and our target will appear soon enough."

"Yeah, yeah. Now get on and get some sleep, too, old man," she snorted back, and grinned mischievously when he cuffed her. He gave her a quick, harmless glare before bidding goodnight, and leaving her be. Catherine sighed a few moments later and finished her meal, though didn't get the rest as he bade. Instead, she decided to focus on the reports and see what might be done for the trails to come.

**-O-**

**August 15, 1478**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"It's confirmed—Antonio has been spotted in _San Gimignano_," Ezio stated as he pointed to the report he'd put on Mario's desk. Around him was the owner of said desk, along with Catherine, Ghita, and the head Thief of their city and in _San Gimignano_, Giuseppe. Both worked to get them the report in their own way, and their council and help was always welcome.

The redhead put her hands on her hips, "Then we need to head out as soon as possible. You said he could leave at any time, right?"

"Maybe. He's a little… well, he ain't all there if my boys heard right," Giuseppe sniffed, rubbing his nose as he shifted on his feet. "Don't think he's leaving, though—not really. My boys managed to sneak a peek at some letter o' his telling him he had to stay and keep things ready for when the others come, so I think he'll be stayin'. Probably. I got eyes all around, though, so we'll know."

"Unfortunately, his occupation makes it hard for my ladies to entice, but some of the soldiers have been mentioning a long residence there… along with grievances with having to obey the 'crazy preacher' during said stay," Ghita added, and Mario, Ezio, and Catherine all nodded.

"Then it is reasonable to say he will remain there. If he attempts to leave I could rally a small band to waylay his forces, but it would be best to catch him off guard and not have him run," the Commander mused.

The thief hummed, "He does keep lots of guards 'round him, so it won't be easy. That report was a tricky one to grab. He's paranoid, for sure. Spends a lot of time in the towers we think—he don't come out much."

"Then we know where to look. As Catherine said, we should leave as soon as possible," Ezio spoke with a firm nod.

"You will need the opportune moment to strike if he has these guards. It may take a day or two before you can… but it would be best if you are there where you might strike quickly," Mario hummed, rubbing his chin. "Hold a moment. I have a map for you."

While the two assassins exchanged an odd look, the older man shuffled through his things to pull out a small parchment with a sketch of the area and a couple of red "X"'s on them. He handed it to Catherine first, being she was closest, and then she handed it to Ezio.

Mario gestured to it, "Those are safe houses for my men. We have allied city-folk there that will give shelter, although it may be in their barns rather their homes—just so you are aware. You will be kept safe here if you cannot be so in the city. It will allow you to remain close, even if the journey there is not too long."

"No, this is excellent, Uncle. I would rather us within blade's reach rather than have to hope he is still there hours later. This will be most useful," the young man smiled and grasped his uncle's arm warmly.

"I am always glad to help, Nephew."

"We, of course, will be happy to offer our services. The brothel there will hide you, should need be," Ghita stated, smiling confidently.

Giuseppe rubbed his nose again, "And we can lure some guards here and there. Provide look out and all. We ain't much for fighting, so don't expect that, but we'll do what we can—you can count on it."

"Then it's settled. We set out at first light tomorrow," Ezio told them, looking to Catherine a she did so.

"Tomorrow it is. With any luck, tomorrow Antonio will meet his end, too," she replied, and that was that.

A target was on the preacher's head, and soon they would have it.

* * *

**36 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Whelp, the fun times are coming to an end. Sort of. There's still room for fun here and there, but the summer of nothing is done and it's time to get to work! A good bit has happened, though-namely, we have an idea of how the Clock maybe works. Mario and Catherine work on it in secret, so hopefully that will bear some fruit! In the meantime, Ezio is a little rambunctious without much to do-at first. Don't worry, he'll get his head back into the game for an assassination, although he has his ups and downs. What can I say? He's a growing young man-right in his prime at 19! He's still going to be a little playful, and, again, Cat is kind of an enabler because she'll make up for his slack, and he trusts her enough to feel relaxed around her :)_

_Anyways... so the Lorenzo missions have been going on during the time skip-you know all the ones in game you can do in less than an hour? Yeah, I figure these went on for the whole summer instead, so there we go xD Among other random ones and stuff, so these two **have **been busy. Also, stuff is happening in Monteriggioni, and their allies are growing. Figure I could have fun with establishing them and how they kind of worked :) then the Pazzi are back on the move taking back San Gimignano and now it's time to play hot-potato with safe houses!_

_Next chapter will be a fun action one yet again, so get ready! _


	38. The Preacher

**TMWolf: **_SURPRISE! Early update to give all my readers a Christmas present! :') So, y'know, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hope you guys enjoy it like the rest, although there's more fighting than sass this one, ha ha. Oh, and I do have a bit of bad news: while I am updating early here, the next update may be late. I'll be... very occupied with my two best friends pretty soon and with family still, so not much writing will be done probably. Don't worry, though; this isn't a hiatus or anything-just the next update may take longer than usual. After that, though update will resume as usual._

_As always thank-you sooooo much for the reviews! They mean a lot to me, so, please, feel free to leave any comments, questions, or anything else! :)_

_Now, the chapter title isn't really related lyric-wise, but it was too good to pass up, ha ha. Anyways, it's from Jamie N Commons - The Preacher~_

_That's all for now, so enjoy, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!_

* * *

**37 **– _The Preacher_

* * *

**August 16, 1478**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

Catherine yawned as she held onto the reigns of their horses in one hand, a lamp in the other, glancing around at the house Mario had directed them to—one of his many safe houses. It was a smallish farm home, with a barn and another house all close by. There was a pen for the horses that she'd take their rides to soon enough, and the small house looked accommodating. It wasn't the most pleasant place, and certainly it was nothing like home, but it was holding up and provide them the shelter they needed. If they were lucky, they wouldn't need long to find the monk and end his life. For now, though, she was letting Ezio handle the negotiations—in other words, explaining who they were and their connection to Mario.

That, and she was a little tired. They had decided to leave right at nightfall so no one would really notice them come in, and they'd taken the longer route through the woods to help further. There was always the danger of the wildlife or rouges, but they weren't worried; they were well armed and the steeds of _Monteriggioni_ were war horses. They knew how to fight. Of course, they ended up not needing it as the hours passed and they finally came into view of the city—visible thanks to the many fires lit in the night. From there, they just followed the main road while keeping an eye out for guards and made their way to the safe house. Mario had said an older couple lived there, and it proved true. Now all that remained was getting a spot to sleep.

The redhead yawned again as Ezio shook hands with the husband and turned around to walk back towards her. He had an easy smile that she made out once he lifted his lantern to take his horse's reigns from her and gestured towards the smaller house.

"They said it's ours to use as long as we need," he told her as they headed to the horse pen.

She rolled her shoulders, "Sounds good…. Wait, what's the catch?"

"Well… there is… one," he chuckled, much to her chagrin. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't say it right away, and so went about freeing their rides of their burden and letting them roam free in the pen. From there, they headed to the small building where Ezio was "gentleman" enough to open the door for her, revealing the catch: there was only one bed. And it was kind of small.

Catherine paused, giving Ezio a look, and he kept on grinning. She raised a brow, deposited her saddle and pack on a chair, the lantern on a nightstand, and then folded her arms over her chest.

"You're sleeping on the floor."

He laughed, setting his things down, too, "Oh, come on. We've slept in the same bed before, and the floor is very hard. Surely you can allow one night? I promise I won't be a bother."

"_Uh-huh _. As I recall, I woke up that one time with you using my _boobs_ as a _pillow_," she mused sharply, giving him a harsh glare. Of course, he just grinned like the cheeky little monkey he was and held up his hands in surrender.

"In my defense I was drunk that night and barely remember a thing!"

"You weren't drunk when you woke up."

"I was drunk on your womanly wiles?" he tried, and her deadpan "are-you-fucking-joking" expression only served to make him grin more. "It will only be for a night or two—that's not so bad! We shared Leonardo's spare bed, too."

"Also, different."

"Catherine, come ooon," he groaned, shoulders slumping and trying to give her his best pouty, "please-forgive-me" look. She narrowed her eyes, and tried to stay strong. Normally, she could, but this was Ezio, and he looked so freaking ridiculous when he made that face. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling and just tell herself it _was_ just for a night or two. That, and she could just shove him off if he decided to be a jerk. He wouldn't do anything purposefully unless to mess with her, anyways. He was a good guy, and she _knew_ she could trust him, which briefly served to make a sense of weirdness, but also something nice, too. She wasn't used to being able to trust someone so much.

She sighed with exasperation, throwing her hands up, "Fine, fine. You can stay in the bed. _But_—if you so much as poke me you are sleeping outside."

"Of course," he winked, and she gave him one final look before removing her weapons and armor. He, like-wise, started to do the same. She honestly wanted to sleep now, but once she saw Ezio's expression change—become more somber as he got into his thinking mood—she knew some more talk was involved. They had already strategized some earlier, but the old couple might have said something to change things. As such, she set herself down on the bed to start tugging her boots off.

"So. Same game plan then, or what? Meet with the Thieves, Courtesans, and Mercenaries to get the information, then go from there while avoiding guards?" she inquired, leaning back on her arms as she got the last boot off and let it slump onto the stone floor.

Ezio hummed as he worked his own off, "Just about. Although the old couple mentioned the priest as apparently been doing… _odd_ things. He preaches more than usual and in a frenzied state. They said the guards have been more active, too, but they also mentioned they aren't sure who to look for. The preacher just mentioned assassins but not what they looked like."

"Well, that's good for us then. We can move more easily… do you want to split up, though? Or stick together?"

"Mmm… split up—for now. If we learn anything, we'll meet in the city's marketplace—near the tailor," he replied before poking through his weapons and finding his throwing knives. He took out a towel from his pack and started to tinker with them, making sure they were in good shape. Catherine decided to do the same, though inspected her sword and hidden blade first.

"Hopefully the others know his schedule and route now—then maybe we can surprise him and do this quick and easy. The less commotion the better," she mused as she touched at a small chip in the metal. She frowned, but would have to have it fixed some other time.

"I would certainly like that, but if he's in a crazed state it could be more difficult. And then the bit about the increased guard…"

She glanced up at him, then exchanged her blade for a dagger, "We can handle guards—pick them off. That's probably what will take the longest…. Uuugh, I just realized we might have to deal with stupid archers. I _hate_ dealing with archers."

"Oh, come on—they're not _that_ bad," Ezio laughed as he switched weapons, too. "We'll just tread carefully and once we find Antonio we'll make a plan to get to him."

"We should spend tomorrow scouting the city then, too; get tips from the Thieves on which alleyways to use and the best ways to get to the brothel, and then check with the Mercenaries to make sure they have the choke points and can help with things."

"Good idea. Although, if we get to the monk first…"

She shrugged, "We'll wing it as we go—as usual. Anyways, all good on your weapons? I'm tempted to almost not take all of them to seem less conspicuous… I do have my cloak, which, unfortunately, I still have to use…"

"Oh, don't pout," he chuckled, pausing to look at her. "You know _Monteriggioni_ is the only place no one looks twice at you waltzing around in your armory. Don't worry about it too much, though; the cloak will be fine, and it doesn't look all that bad on you."

"Oh, _thanks_. Knowing I am fashionable just helps so much," she snorted, giving him a look, but he just laughed again. She rolled her eyes, but then sighed as she got her last dagger inspected and put it back into place. "I'm just glad Annetta got it fitted it better. Right, well, I'm good on my gear. Need help with yours?"

"No, I've got it—just the special dagger left," Ezio smiled, pulling out the birthday gift she'd given him. She flushed a little. He'd never let it be away from his side since the moment he'd had it, and he'd maybe used it once or twice in battle as needed. It was a good weapon, after all, but to know it was called his "special" one tugged at her heart some. Such a damned tease.

"Is it holding up alright?" she asked as she began to loosen the strings of her shirt and slipped the top vest off. She noted he watched, but quickly returned to the dagger when he realized she was watching him right back.

"Greatly so. You never did tell me how much you spent on it," he grinned, glancing up again as she went to grab her lantern, and then moved to the far side of the bed, putting it on the stand there.

"And I never will. That's the point of a _gift_. Now stop asking, or I'll throw something at you like Claudia did when you kept asking her about what she was doing for your birthday party," she replied sharply, jabbing a finger at him. He laughed, raising his hands in surrender and put his things away. He slipped off his own gear then, leaving himself in a shirt and pants. She made a point not to look and to ignore how scandalous this technically was—in both this time and hers, sort of. She was okay with it in the end, although it did feel awkward, but it was just how it was. Best just to suck it up and get used to it. For the most part. It did make her a little embarrassed knowing Ezio was probably enjoying it.

"Right, well, let's do our best tomorrow shall we?" she hummed, blowing out her lantern and getting under the blankets. "And remember: any funny business and I'm kicking you to the floor."

"Yes, yes," Ezio chuckled, blowing out his own. "Just try not to want me too badly tonight."

"Ugh, try not to hit the headboard with your fat head," she grunted in return.

"Ah, I do love your denial," he purred right back.

"Oh my Gooood, just go to sleep, you weirdo."

She could _feel_ him smirking.

"As you command, kitty-Cat."

She refrained from smacking him and groaned instead, earning one last chuckle before they settled down. Briefly, she wondered if he might actually mess with her, but as the minutes went by she could hear him relaxing. Pushing her awkwardness aside, she let herself get the sleep she needed. They had a busy day—or days—to come, after all.

**-O-**

**August 18, 1478**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

"Well, there's definitely more guards out," Catherine mused, peering from under her hood at the rooftops. Sure enough, there were figures in red on the higher roofs, bows and arrows strapped to their backs. On the ground were also more guards, although she was relieved to find it wasn't as many as there had been when Vieri was here. That wasn't to say it was safe enough for them to take the force on their own. Oh no; if they made a show of killing the guards they would be swarmed in an instant and killed. They had to tread carefully. Thankfully, there were no wanted posters and no one save their allies seemed to recognize them.

"We can handle it. We just need to find Antonio first. Our informant should be around here somewhere—a mercenary according to the message this morning," Ezio replied, munching on the last bit of his jerky as he, too, glanced around. Occasionally his eyes flashed, using his Vision to get a different look.

"Yeah, and everyone should be good to go. The Thieves gave us a map, so that'll be nice to have. Wish we could have come back before the Pazzi and learned everything better, but between Lorenzo's missions and training…"

The young man shrugged, "We'll be fine. If not the streets, we can take to the roofs, and the country side will make it hard to find us if we go that way."

"Also depends on how long it takes for Maffei to show. If it's late, it'll be better to stay at a safe house and leave after we get some sleep," the redhead replied, glancing to their right where a group of mercenaries stood brandishing their weapons as they always did. She nodded discretely, and they did the same. As it stood, they had about ten groups in the city itself, maybe five outside. The Pazzi had forced some out beforehand, so there wasn't as many as she would like, but it was enough to handle the enemy here.

The Thieves, like-wise, were all in place. Guiseppe had told them to find a Daniele to get the map, and from there the thief had mentioned they had eyes watching and ears listening. Messengers were constantly moving and everyone was on page. They would do the usual calls to let them know when danger was around or the target was in sight, and all were ready to lure guards when they could. The two of them, in turn, would do what they could to protect any thieves potentially in trouble should that come to be.

Lastly were the courtesans, but the only thing required for that was ensuring the ladies were doing alright and that the brothel was secure. It was, and Catherine had to make a point to ensure Ezio didn't linger too long despite the ladies' beckoning. Of course, he found it hilarious, but then they kept on their patrols and scouting; learning the city as they could. They were slowly getting it, but they would need all the help they could get. A day of searching and traveling wasn't enough—not when the city was huge. Not quite as huge as _Firenze_, but at least twice the size of _Monteriggioni_. With more time they might know it better, but they would just have to make do for now.

"Ah, there. I see him," Ezio spoke up suddenly, pointing. Catherine followed his line of sight to a lone mercenary standing by a railing. It was near the church with the large courtyard in front of it—the place they'd met up with Mario during the Vieri attack. The same place they'd met Emilio again for the last time. It was very different without bodies, blood, and chaos going on. In fact, there was a wide array of people walking about, having a good time as they made their way to wherever they were going or standing around, relaxing in the afternoon sun. The Mercenary looked very similar with how he lounged, but once he saw them approaching he perked up, rolling his shoulders.

"Greetings Ezio, Catherine. I've got news for you," he explained, looking between them both. The two nodded, so he continued, motioning towards the rooftops. "Antonio Maffei has sought refuge atop the city's tallest structure—spouting scripture and arrows in equal measure. The man has clearly lost his mind."

"Just as the others suspected… Damn. He won't be easy to get to," Catherine frowned, and the mercenary winced slightly.

"I'm afraid it's worse than that. He's posted archers all around him. Neither of you will get anywhere near him so long as they are there."

While Catherine groaned, Ezio nodded, "Understood. Do you know when Maffei goes there?"

"Well, he's there all the time now—only guards or servants go in and out and the entrance is too well guarded. You will only be able to catch him when he is at the rooftops which happens at daybreak or in the evening—just before supper. You'll know he's there when you hear the preaching."

"So not much longer then. How long does he stay up there preaching?"

"Well into the night. You will have plenty of time to get at him. You just have to get rid of the archers," the mercenary pointed out, motioning to the rooftops.

"Thank-you for the information. Now, return to your men. When we are in need of your aid, we'll give the signal," Ezio replied, clapping the man's shoulder. The mercenary returned it and then headed off leaving the two of them alone. The young man looked to Catherine, whom slumped and huffed rather pathetically, and grinned. "It's _just_ archers. We can handle them."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, it's almost supper so not much longer like you said. We just need to head to the tallest tower," she hummed, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked at the towers just beyond the courtyard. One had a line of wood—a balcony of sorts—around it, so she pointed. "That the one?"

Ezio hummed, "Yes, I think so… the others aren't as tall."

"…Well, shit… Yeah, you can handle this one. There is no way in hell I am climbing that. Are there even places to hold on to?" she guffawed as they walked towards it.

"What? Are you _scared_ to climb something?" the young man laughed as he glanced around the roofs, eyes flashing.

She snorted, "Please. Not scared. I just know my limits. You're the better climber, too, and you have more endurance for it. _I'll_ handle the archer guards lower down and keep them off your back as you climb—how's that sound?"

"Hmm… I _suppose _that will do. I'm going to hold you to your word, you know. I get one scratch and you owe me," he smirked with a wink.

"Just go," she grunted, giving him a look. She took the lead, however, finding a small alleyway and scaling the side of the building. He was right behind her, and she paused at the edge, scanning things. She saw about five archer on the nearby surrounding buildings, and when she showed Ezio via fingers, he nodded. No more words passed as she pulled out a throwing knife. The first archer wasn't far, so she would need to act fast. In the meantime, Ezio hunkered down close to the leap between him and the highest tower where he would wait until she gave another signal. Now, it was up to her.

Coiling her legs, she leaped up the side of the wall, pulling over the edge, and striking. The guard had his back turned, so she shoved her hidden blade into the back of his neck so he wouldn't make a sound. The other guard not far away would have heard the small sounds, though, and, sure enough, he started to turn, so she threw her knife—catching him right in the eye. The shock made his shout garbled and cut off as he fell backward, banging his head. She sped towards him, kicking his face hard with her heel before wrenching the knife out. He was silent, so she went on.

The next one was higher up, so she quickly wiped the blood off the knife, stuck the hilt into her mouth, and found a good spot to climb. She paused when she heard footsteps just above and went stock still. She didn't even breathe as the seconds passed and then there was more scuffle of boots on tile. Thankfully, the other bodies were out of sight some so it wouldn't raise alarm—not yet, anyways. The fewer guards, the better.

Catherine glanced over the edge and saw the guard with his back turn. She climbed over carefully, waiting until the last moment to sprint and shove her hidden blade into the man's shoulder—right where the heart should be. She had pulled her dagger free from her teeth, too, and shoved it into his throat, ensuring his silence. She set him down gently as she retracted her weapons and then kept low as she looked for more, or at least ways to get to them. She looked to where Ezio was and he pointed upwards, signaling he was heading up. He evidently didn't consider the other archers an issue, so she nodded. She scanned the rooftops quickly, looking for a good jumping point. There was one higher up, so she climbed. As she did, there was a distinct shouting from above that made her pause.

"Citizens of _San Gimignano_, heed well my words! You must repent! _Repent_ and seek _forgiveness_! For your wicked ways have incurred the wrath of a _demon! _Summoned by your sins, he now walks our world, cloaked in shadow and darkness! And everywhere he treads, _death follows!_" the voice howled out from far above. She rolled her eyes. Yeah—that was the monk alright, and he definitely sounded crazy. Now she was really glad Ezio was handling him. She wasn't sure she wouldn't throw _herself _off the roof before she got to him just from listening to his lunacy.

Unfortunately, it just droned on and on. The monk did not cease in his ranting, spouting about how the people were essentially going to hell and that she and Ezio—or rather just Ezio since they, thankfully, didn't seem to know she was around—were going to ruin them and other stupid, crazy nonsense. She ignored it as best as she could as she leaped from roof to roof, rolling once and up beneath an archer's bow and arrow to stab him in the gut. He gasped in agony and grasped her hair, pulling harsh enough she yelped. She used her dagger to stab his arm, freeing her red locks and then shoved her hidden blade into him again, this time in the chest. She wagered she missed the heart, but the wound to his gut and potentially lungs made him fall, and he would die soon enough. She hissed at her stinging scalp, her make-shift bun loose and a mess now. A shout kept her from worrying over it long, though—the last guard had noticed her. He was getting ready to fire an arrow at her, too.

Scowling, she quickly grabbed the quiver and bow from the guard she just killed and scurried behind cover. She glanced up to the main tower where Ezio was climbing and saw him near the top. There were guards up there, looking down where the shouting had come from, which was thankfully away from him. Bad for her, but she would deal—first with the guard who was in good firing range.

Catherine readied the arrow as best she could, lamenting she _still_ hadn't practiced with it as much as she should have. She made a mental note to tell Mario to include archery in their training as she looked around the corner to see where the guard was, retreated to avoid an arrow that missed not by too much, and then spun back around. She aimed as best as she could, pulled as far as she was able, and fired. It missed, clinking off the edge of the building the man was at. He laughed, and readied his bow again. She rolled her eyes with frustration, and then heard two arrow bang off the other side of her cover. She looked upwards to find the guards above had decided to take a go at killing her, much to her annoyance. However, Ezio was about to pull himself over the edge so she let herself smirk.

Sure enough, the two guards were caught unawares as the young man pounced, stabbing one from behind in the neck, and kicking the other off the edge. He fell screaming, which put a stop to the mind-numbing preaching. Catherine was glad for it, and for the distraction as the guard she had fired at before was no longer occupied with her. It gave her the opportunity to shoot once more, and this time she managed to hit, but only just barely in the shoulder. The man yelped, though, and staggered slightly, but that was all she really needed. Ezio would make his kill soon—in fact, there was a distinct shriek of despair and screams about the demon being here—and then that was it. Nothing else. No preaching, no screaming; just silence. The deed was done.

Sighing with relief, Catherine tossed the bow and arrow, looked up briefly just in time to see her crazy partner do a damned Leap of Faith off the tower. Of course _he_ would do that, and so she rolled her eyes as she quickly redid her hair, although it was still tangled thanks to the jackass guard. Briefly, she considered how she shouldn't think so carelessly or callously about it. She had just taken a life—thankfully without the use of the Clock—but she supposed she was used to it now; it was just a part of her duty and way of life. Perhaps that wasn't a good thing, but there wasn't much time to think on it.

Alarms began to ring out. The monk's silenced rants had caught someone's attention, and apparently the dead guards, too. Not that she was surprised, and so she ran. She had seen where Ezio fell and so leaped her way over, noting down below guards were calling for reinforcements and to find who did the deed. She saw some fingers pointing at mercenaries, and hoped they wouldn't be forced into an unnecessary fight. She knew that's what they were trained for, but still. Hopefully if she and Ezio got into hiding or left soon nothing too bad would happen. First, she needed to find her partner in crime.

Catherine found a haystack near the tower soon enough and figured that was where he was at. She watched carefully for any guards before she climbed down, crouching low beside it. Briefly, she wondered why the _hell_ someone left hay right there in such a big amount, but let it be as she poked into it. Sure enough, she felt a body inside. Before she could speak, a hand suddenly lashed out, grabbing hers, and pulled her in—only halfway, too—and she found a grinning face hidden amongst hay and a hood.

She rolled her eyes, "Very cute, now come on. There aren't guards here _yet_ so let's get going. I think we can get out before they close the exits."

"Aww, but it's so comfy in here," he smirked, but let her pull away and came out himself soon enough, brushing off his cloak.

"Yeah, no, hay is _not_ comfy and you know it. Now, let's get going," she hummed, helping him some, though paused as she found a feather caught in his gear. She pulled it free, grinning some. "We have news—and a gift—to bring home, after all."

He grinned back, "Indeed we do."

They took off then, hoods down and limbs moving quickly to race to the nearest exit. The alarm was getting around, but so far no mass search had been formed. It proved their benefit; before anyone knew it the two had escaped through the gates unnoticed. By the time anyone really started a search both assassins had a horse and were riding back to _Monteriggioni_, successful and one step closer to defeating the enemy.

**-O-**

"Oh my Goooood—so glad to be home," Catherine half-sighed with relief and half-groaned with exasperation. Not only did she feel a bit sore, she was tired. It was well into the night by the time they finally reached home, so she was hungry, too. Of course, it had all been worth it, but still. She was desperate to get up the last steps to the _Villa_ and find their way inside. She could still smell the remnants of whatever Annetta had cooked, and so salivated at once. Her stomach growled for good measure, which got a happily-ignored laugh from Ezio.

"I know what you mean. I am _also_ starving. I wonder if Mario is even awake right now," he rumbled as they ventured through to the kitchen. As she would with his father, the head maid had left them food in a covered pot. It was still warm, thankfully, so they were able to enjoy a decent soup with meats and bread. It was greatly relished and little talk was made as they ate—too busy enjoying the food. Although, the unexpected arrival of Annetta did waylay their eating for a few moments as she welcomed them home and then fussed over their tattered clothes. She would mend them for them, she assured, and bade them to continue eating while she fetched Mario. The rest of the family was still asleep, but she would be sure to give them the good news when she woke them in the morning. As such, the two continued to eat until they were done and then headed for Mario's study. There, Catherine slumped into the seat and leaned lazily on the desk.

Ezio gave her an odd look, "You're not _that_ tired, are you?"

"Hey, I killed like… six… guards, I think. More than four, anyways. You killed two and then Maffei. One of those jerks yanked my hair, too," she huffed, rubbing at the back of her head as she recalled the pain. Ezio chuckled as he leaned down on his elbows, head close.

"Shall I kiss it better?" he winked, but she only rolled her eyes and turned his face away.

"I don't need your slobber all over my hair, too," she snorted, though grinned as she sat back up. "But, I mean… I'm a little tired. We rode the horses for hours after all that, and then we were up early scoping the city, sooo yeah. I'm a little tired. Aren't you?"

He yawned deeply, "Of course not."

"Uh-huh. Ever cheeky—as always… oh! You still have the feather, right?" she asked, and he nodded before he pulled it out, holding it to her. She took it, gingerly adjusted the plumage to make sure it was fluffed right. It was just a small, white feather, but it would do just fine. "Good. It's just right—right?"

"Yes. I guess I didn't mention, but I've mostly been looking for small white ones—like the ones Petruccio had me find. I still wonder why he did it… and sometimes I think I know it, but then it escapes me…"

"Well, how do you mean?"

"Hmmm… it's… well, sometimes I remember—back when I was younger. When Federico first had me climb the _Duomo_… I remember bringing feathers for Petruccio that night. I did it for a reason, and I think it was because of our free-running, but… I can't remember exactly why. He said _something_ for it, but for the life of me…" Ezio sighed, throwing up his arms in defeat. Catherine smiled as she reached out and grasped his arm, squeezing gently.

"Whatever the reason, it's a good one, so don't worry. You're doing him justice and making him proud—and helping your mom, too. Here. This one is for you to take this time," she told him softly, putting the feather into his hand and closing his fingers over it. He smiled back after a moment and placed his other hand over hers, squeezing right back.

His touch lingered for a while—perhaps even longer than it should—and it seemed as though he might speak, but whatever words had begun to form were pushed back as the sound of footsteps reached them. They released one another and looked to the entryway where Mario appeared, dressed more casually than she had ever seen him and free of his armor and weapons. He was still full of jubilance, though, and embraced them both warmly.

"Good to have you back—and so soon! I take it the mission went well enough—Maffei was given a proper death?" he inquired, looking between them seriously.

Ezio nodded, "I did. I swear it."

"I believe you," his Uncle nodded, grasping his shoulder and the looked to the redhead.

"I took care of guards, but I didn't have time to give them more than a thought later. I'm sorry," she winced, but he waved it off.

"It cannot be helped sometimes, but when we can give it we must," he hummed, clapping her shoulder, too, and then stepped back. "So… did Maffei confess to anything before his passing?"

"No. He had lost his mind by the time we reached him. We only gave him a means of peace," Ezio bowed his head, and although Mario sighed he nodded him with him yet again.

"And may he find it in the other life. It is a shame we could learn no more of things to come, but it is no matter. We will prepare all the same, although I warn you: it will not get any easier form here."

Catherine sighed, "Figured that one. There weren't quite as many guards as when Vieri was there, but there were still a lot. We were lucky to get out when we did. I take it more are coming?"

"Unfortunately. Scouts have gotten word that more will come as more of the conspirators return. It will still be some time—months, I imagine, but now they know you are still here, and you are _still_ a threat. They will be more prepared; they will not be so easy to reach," Mario explained, his voice grave. They knew the risk, though, and were not swayed.

"We will not be stopped. The others—Bagnone, Salviati, Baroncelli, and the last Pazzi, Jacopo—they will all die by our blade to pay for their sins."

"Even if it takes us years we'll make sure of it. No more will suffer because of their schemes," Catherine added, glaring at the thought of them.

"Indeed, they will not. But first we must retreat and wait; let them think they can be safe. You must bide your time for now; rest, train, and do what missions you can. Return there every so often to learn the land, being that you will be going there more and more with your targets making it their home. You will need to know it better than even them."

"Sounds like a plan then. We go between here and _San Gimignano_. Use the safe houses to scout and makes our own maps; learn the city like the back of our hand. Keep track of movements and use our allies to keep an ear to the ground," the redhead hummed, sending a grin Ezio's ways.

He returned it, "Indeed it does. It is only a shame we will have to wait—but patience is a virtue, is it not?"

"Of which you know nothing about," Catherine mused quickly, earning a laugh from their commander, whom grasped their shoulders warmly.

"Then it is settled! Tonight rest. Tomorrow we will celebrate your victory. After that, that our waiting begins, and the end of the rest of the conspirators will follow."

And so, just as Mario said, the long wait began.

* * *

**37 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap! Antonio Maffeii is dead! One conspirator is done, still a good many to go. Our assassins are slowly getting on their way. A good bit of sass, but fun fights this chapter, and if that's your thing then expect more to come! _

_Don't have much to say this one, so that's pretty much all for now. Hope you all get to enjoy the holiday! :)_


	39. The Take Over, The Breaks Over

**TMWolf: **_Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm back guys! Man, that was a pretty long break, but it's over now! I had a ton of fun over the holidays, but it's back to work now, and time to update again yaaay! Right, so we left off killing Maffei (thank God), and now it's time to continue hunting the Templars! So, there is **A TIME SKIP**, but I make that pretty clear. But know there's going to be a lot of time hopping around because it takes like a year to kill everyone. I've done my best to explain this in my own way since the game is a butt and just pretends you know a year is going by and not like... a week lol_

_Anyways, as usual, how the characters are written is based off my interpretation of the canon and my own ideas. _

_Now for reviews! Seriously, always love to hear ya'll's opinions, so keep 'em coming! :) I'm happy to answer them all, too._

**KyloRenFAN:** _Sorry for the delay! I was on vacation (and work), but worry not: I update every other week! So glad you're enjoying the story, though!_

_Again, thanks so much for reviewing guys! Please don't be afraid to point anything out, be it a mistake or a question or confusion :)_

_Now... today's chapter is from Fall Out Boy's - The Take Over, The Breaks Over. Lyrics don't relate, but the title fit great haha xD_

_And hmm... I do believe that's it, so get reading!_

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**38 **– _The Take Over, The Breaks Over_

* * *

**April 11, 1479**

**Toscana, Italy**

Slowly, carefully, the hand crept. It was subtle; making sure to avoid notice. The prey was in sight—just inches away. With a few more seconds he would have his prize, and so he couldn't help a tiny grin appearing on his face. The owner of said prey wasn't looking either, which made it all the better. Oh, he would enjoy this little victory, and he already began to savor it as he crossed the stretch and reached.

That is, until a sharp pain shoot through the top of his hand.

"Shit! That _hurt_!" Ezio huffed, giving Catherine a sincere pout as he nursed his stinging flesh. The redhead held no pity as she took the roll from the basket that was rightfully hers and put it on her plate, well out of his reach.

"Don't try to steal my bread," she mused right back, not even looking at him as she cut the food in half to give room for her slices of meat. "You know you deserved that."

"You could have just said no," he grumbled, setting his elbow on the table so he could press his cheek into his palm. He looked to the wall instead, like the naughty boy he was.

"That wouldn't have stopped you from taking it. I took the _exact_ course of action needed… and what do you know? It worked," the redhead snorted, finally giving him the "look". He glanced at her and huffed some more.

"Just wanted another piece of bread."

She rolled her eyes, "Then go ask Anastasia and Ercole. I'm sure they'll give you more. Go give the wife those… doe eyes of yours or whatever you do. Just make sure the husband doesn't see it. I'd rather not be kicked out like we _almost_ were that one time."

"Hey, I was just being polite. Not my fault her fiancé was the jealous type," Ezio pouted, but didn't move from his spot. He deflated instead, spreading his elbows out to fold his arms and set his head on them. "And I'm not really that hungry. I just wanted your bread."

"Let me guess," she replied, pausing to lean on her elbow and point her cutting knife at him. "You wanted me to give you a kiss to get it back, right?"

He waggled a brow as he grinned, "Maybe."

"Which would have then led to me telling you to just keep it, and then you would tease me by bringing it close and saying it's just a kiss on the cheek and then I'd try to take it from you, and then it would end in a tussle with me on top of your lap and you making some cheeky, perverted comment. How far off am I here?"

"Spot on, actually. How did you know?" he smirked as he leaned back up and then forward some.

She gave him a dull look, "Because that's what happened last time."

"Damn, you're learning."

"Damn straight. You'll have to try it on all those courtesans of yours. I'm sure they won't throw the bread in your face after," she snorted before scarfing down the rest of her meal.

"Aaah, there she is. My favorite little jealous kitty. How I have missed you since yesterday," he purred with a wink. She only rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her wine.

"Not jealous—annoyed. You keep messing around when we're supposed to be working. Keeping an eye out—."

"—for our target, yes I know, but it doesn't mean we can't have fun. I promised I would not get over zealous with it, and I haven't, have I?" he replied, to which she made a thoughtful sound. He hadn't actually been fooling around a lot so he smiled and waved his hand towards her. "See? It's fine if I play a little, and we work all the time. _You_ need to learn to relax, and I don't just mean after we're done for the day. After all, it's been, what—almost half a year since we killed Maffei, and nothing yet. We've scouted essentially the entirety of _San Gimignano_ and know it almost as well as _Monteriggioni_, and we know the countryside, too. We've already gained allies with the people, which is how we're even staying in this house and made it a new safe one for our comrades. We've helped ease the strain of the Pazzi guards where we can even if they keep coming back—stubborn bastards—and even found a few Codex pages we need to take to Leonardo. I think we've earned some free time, no? And come on—you'd want some if we were in _Firenze_ so you could go see Leonardo. It's not so bad then, right?"

She was quiet for a moment as she watched him and sighed, "Alright, alright, yes, yes, it's fine. We've done good work. We deserve a break. Happy?"

He laughed, "Very much so. But now the question is: how do you plan to have fun here?"

"Well, I can guarantee I'm not going to go flirt with every pair of boobs I see," she snorted, much to his bemusement, shown off by a grin. She sighed again, leaning back in her chair. "I mean… yeah, I guess we can just… _not_ be working and do something, but… y'know, we still need to focus. We can't get carried away. Sorry if I sound pushy about it—I know I can—I just… this stuff is important. We both know that."

"Don't worry, I do—I won't let things get away. I have my fun—mostly to make you jealous of course—but I know when to be serious. You can trust me."

"Really? 'Cause the jealousy comment tells me the exact opposite of _that_," she barked right back, giving him a slight glare. Ezio only laughed, forever enjoying her reactions to anything he said. She didn't get it sometimes. Was he honestly just teasing her or what? Was it because he liked her or was he just being a jerk? It was confusing, but it had hardly lessened her crush on him over the many months that had gone by. In fact, the exact opposite had been happening; she'd come to like him even _more_. It was infuriating, but she loved it all the same because she liked him. She would never admit it, of course. She didn't dare when she was so unsure of _his_ feelings—after all, if he liked her, why wouldn't he say so?

The redhead shook her head mentally, meaning to change the subject, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, a knock came from the door. Both of them froze—they didn't even breathe—and then immediately grabbed for a weapon the next second. Ezio glanced at Catherine before stepping to the door while she readied her throwing knife. She kept it at her side, but it was prepared to hit whomever was at the door to stun them and then allow Ezio to make the killing blow. They'd discussed it and practiced even, and it seemed to work well enough. They employed it now as the young man braced near the door.

"Hello?" he inquired carefully. There was a pause that made the redhead's heart go a little faster with anticipation.

"The eagle soars in the dark night—it's Giuseppe. I've got news, so hurry and open up!" the familiar voice of their thief contact in the area rang out, and both of them relaxed instantly. He'd said the "safe" code words, so Ezio did not hesitate to open the door and usher him inside. He looked outside briefly while Catherine motioned for the thief to have a seat as she cleared the table for him. He happily took a chair before he pulled a parchment from his pouch, which he gave to her. Her eyes roved it at once, widening with each passing word, and gave it to Ezio when he came near.

"Looks like Francesco Salviati _is_ alive. I had hoped he had been hanged in _Firenze_, but it seems he managed to trade places with someone else, and it turns out he's _here_," she explained, and the young man shared her expression as he read.

"Unfortunately, and not alone. He's got a lot more soldiers than the crazy priest now that the new regiment came in. I don't think you'll be stopping the soldiers, but you can probably get to your man," the thief mused, shrugging as he grabbed one of their remaining bottles of wine and drinking from it.

Ezio hummed, "If we can find him. He's obviously done a damn good job of hiding thus far if he escape your notice."

"Hey, give us some slack. Ain't easy moving through the country like the city, y'know. Not like _you_ found him," Giuseppe snorted with a slight glare, which the young man returned.

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Boys, please. Calm down. The important thing is we know he's here and can work on finding his exact location and how to get him."

"He's probably at his villa," the thief shrugged, and when the redhead gave him a raised brow he went on, "He owns some fancy spot out here in the north. Pretty nice. A little too lavish for my taste. Wasted coin and all. No one's really seen him, but the guards are listening to _someone_ so he's there. Just have to find out who."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Ezio replied, glancing to Catherine, but the thief laughed before guzzling down some more wine.

"Forgot about them guards, Sir Assassin," he smirked, again pricking at a nerve in the young man. The redhead gave him a look, though, which made him tame the annoyance. Giuseppe snickered like the imp he was. "Right. So. Them guards. They make it hard to get a look in and few leave or come in unless you're red, if you catch my meaning."

"I could pose as a guard? Sneak in and find and kill him?"

"If it's not too risky. You should locate him first then come back and we'll make a plan."

"I'd listen to the lady—there are a _lot_ of guards."

Ezio grumbled slightly, "Alright, alright, I'll just scout. But Catherine… you should go gather some mercenaries. If there's as many guards as our friend here thinks, we'll have a decent fight on our hands so we'll need the help."

"I can do that. All that's left is finding a guard about your size."

"Well," Giuseppe mused as he stood up, taking the wine with him, "not gunna be much help there, so I'm gunna head off. Good luck, although you probably don't need it, eh?"

With that, the thief slipped out, their drink going along with him. They didn't mind really, being that it was from the owners of the shack they were in, and they had bigger priorities at the moment. Indeed, Salviati was a much bigger problem they needed to take care of. They had been hoping for months that it wasn't true ever since the mercenaries had brought word of the man possibly being alive. Their hope was dashed now, but it only meant they had to kill another man.

"So, looks like we're finally back in business… We may have to put that time off on hold," Catherine grinned slightly as she shuffled through her things to bring out a map. Ezio came up beside her, humming thoughtfully as he scoured it with his eyes and hand towards the north.

"As you've said: the mission comes first. There will be time to have fun together later," he winked playfully, earning a soft smack on the arm as she chuckled.

"Oh, and try to learn to love Giuseppe. Your cock fight is adorable, sure, but really unnecessary. You know he goads you on purpose."

He huffed, "I _know_, but I still can't let him win."

"Win _what_? And please don't tell me it really is over who has the biggest cock," she replied, giving him a look.

"I assure you it is not. He just… irritates me."

"…Did he beat you in a race?"

"Wha—_no_!"

"Oh my God he did and that's why you hate him. Oh my God. You're such a dork. I can't believe you," she laughed, much to Ezio's annoyance.

"I beat him as well! I just lost that one time and we haven't done a tie breaker yet!" the young man barked, folding his arms. He gave her a look before gesturing to the map. "Can we just focus on the mission? The villa is up here."

"Uh-huh. Only wanna focus when it doesn't involve me embarrassing you _huh_?" she smirked, but did look to the marking on the map he was pointing to. She knew the spot.

They'd done enough scouting over the past half year that they knew the land even better than ever. Their map was proof of that, although sometimes it would change with growing influence of the Pazzi, as they'd shown by red markers. As it stood now, at least eighty percent of the area was under their enemy's control, with the city serving as their base. However, the Assassins did have their forces installed—secretly, of course—but they couldn't bring in their armies being that they didn't actually have a proper one. Not like the Pazzi, anyways. Sure they had more men at _Monteriggioni_, but not as much as the Pazzi here. They couldn't afford an all-out attack like with Vieri again. That was where they came in, though; working slowly to usurp influence where they could, set up their forces in every spot possible, and find targets like Salviati or those Lorenzo and Mario had given them to take out.

However, even with all the work there had been a good deal of down time to avoid that conflict. Sure enough the two of them had found themselves training or helping _Monteriggioni_ when they needed _San Gimignano_ and its patrols to forget them. They didn't mind, though; home was far better and the city was growing vastly, and not just in number of men. More homes had been built outside the city walls, bringing them more farmland and more traders. That, in turn, brought more visitors and a great deal of coin. New crops were introduced along with more artists and blacksmiths and seamstresses and even doctors to help _the_ Doctor—something he was glad for. There was also an extra training ground and barracks set up for Mario's men, with the one inside the city made for those who patrolled and protected the city inside. They did, after all, have many more citizens to care for, not including the newest thieves and courtesans they had brought in and begun to train. Their network of spies and allies had improved just as much as the state of their home, and it was doing wonders.

Needless to say, the demeanor of the city-folk had only gotten better as a result, and it was always heartwarming when they returned and found open arms waiting for them. If they had once been worried their apparent higher "status" would sit unwell with others—Catherine especially had fretted on this—it was not to be as all accepted it. Though still considered a part of the mercenaries, they were also thought a different tier as well, and so if Mario ever showed them favoritism or spent more time, none seemed too upset. Rather, most would let it be or help them along. New men might gaze in wonder—especially at the woman who fought against their commander's "famous" nephew—and it seemed there might never be another Emilio among them. Of course, it wasn't perfect, but if there was any animosity it never came to light.

Even more elating for the two of them were the two matriarchs of the Auditore family, and the term was used not in jest. Maria had returned more and more, although at a slow pace, but progress was made all the same. Annetta worked with her constantly, and the woman could be seen roaming outside the _Villa_, tending to the gardens and even making conversation. Mario had taken up chatting with her as well, discussing the needs of the _Villa_ and ways to make it more homely or august, and he was happy to oblige. Claudia, like-wise, was happy to provide the coin and have her mother returned to her more. However, the woman—reclaiming more of her regal nature every day—continued to pray at her bedside, and at times she might seem far off, but she always returned now. It relieved the both of them, and they always made sure to bring her feathers whenever possible. They also took some joy in rubbing it in Mario's face, the man having expressed doubts more than once over the gifts, but no longer.

Of the other "matriarch", it was all too clear: Claudia ran the city better than any king or queen ever could. Giovanni had hoped his sons might take on such a role and thrive in it, but his princess had instead gone far beyond what he might have imagined. Her work had seen to the city's success and the men and people respected her as much as they did Mario, although her temper had not improved much. She was still quick to make a sharp retort despite becoming more of a woman with the passing years. She was especially sharp with Ottavio, although not nearly as much as she had been, and there had been rumors of it being jests between them—secret shows of affection. She, of course, denied it adamantly and was quick to reprimand anyone with words if they dared accuse her of such false emotions. Really only Catherine or Ezio could get away with it, but neither tended to really touch upon it, although they were suspicious as well. On the other hand, the young woman was very busy with her work, and sometimes had even little time for them when they were home, although she did what she could and was always happy to have her brother and friend around.

Of course, such knowledge only spurred both of them to work all the harder, and now it was time to put all of it to the test once more.

"So… know any spots where a guard won't be missed if he goes missing?" she inquired, glancing around to where they had marked patrols. There was one in some woods near the villa with only a handful at an outpost. There were some dangerous animals in the woods; it would be easy enough to think one had taken a soldier. Thus, it was to there Ezio pointed.

"There. We'll find one about my size and go from there. It should be easy enough to get in," he hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

She glanced at him, "Don't get cocky—they may notice a new face. You have to be careful and make sure you have a way out."

"Don't worry, I will," he replied with a nod, but then paused as he gestured to a mark—one of their mercenary groups. "We have a contingent here, so that's a good start. We should bring more, though. They could serve as a distraction for when we do the full attack."

"Definitely, especially since last we checked it has a lot of guards. If Salviati is there, then he'll have more. We're going to have a decent fight on our hands."

He winced at the truth of it, "Most likely… we should try and contact Michelangelo and have him meet us then. He's in the countryside right now, yes?"

"I… think so? Either way we can find him. Hell, he might even be near the Villa—that's probably why Giuseppe knows. We just can't give names for safety," she shrugged, which her companion replied in kind with.

"Perhaps, but we will have to find out tomorrow. For now, we definitely need our rest," he stated as he began to roll up the map and put things up. Catherine helped as she could and then began to slip off her main gear, having yet to do so. It always felt a little odd not to wear it, and even odder still to have to share a bed with Ezio _again_, but she was becoming inured to it. Oh, he was a cheeky bastard about it—sure enough he was already grinning as she told him to keep his shirt _on_—but it was just what they had to do. Besides, there was nothing between them, as she'd told herself countlessly over the many months. He probably only saw her as a sister, so this would be like sharing a bed with Claudia. Yeah.

That was it.

"Well, since we have our game plan let's get working on that rest. If we're lucky we can finish this by tomorrow night," she yawned as she slipped into the far side of the bed, up against the wall.

He yawed as well, slipping in on the other side, "Shame we're never quite that lucky."

"Damn shame," she hummed and then leaned over to blow out the light.

**-O-**

**April 12, 1479**

**Toscana, Italy**

"So you found him? He was in the villa like we thought?" Michelangelo inquired as he conferred with Catherine and Ezio, the three of them held up in an old barn not far from a much more grandiose villa. The young man, his white robes exchanged for red ones of the Pazzi along with their armor—the redhead kept his proper clothes safe in her pack—nodded as he tucked his helmet under his arm.

"Yes. He's dressed himself in farmer's clothing, but he was a fool and surrounded himself with guards, and he's carrying an _axe_ of all things. It was like he wanted to be found. However, he's completely barricaded the villa with guards—more than you thought," Ezio replied, and the mercenary sighed some.

"Damn. Figured he might. We may not have enough men then if you're worried."

The young man rubbed his chin, "Maybe… I can still pose as a guard—they didn't notice anything off about me. If you can just _distract_ them, then he will be open to be killed, although…"

"'Although'?" Catherine inquired, brow raised. He glanced at her a bit sheepishly.

"The man knows what I look like—in terms of robes. He kept obsessing over the Assassin coming and to be prepared; to look for someone in white."

"So?" the mercenary frowned, raising his brow, too.

Catherine paused briefly but then narrowed her eyes, "Wait… You want one of us to wear your robe and lure him out? Or get him to send the other guards out?"

"Something like that," he chuckled. "He's paranoid—_very_ paranoid. If he sees 'me' he'll no doubt send the guards to attack. He won't suspect I'm in there with him and I can end him quickly. It will help avoid a major fight. If we can I would say we take out the groups patrolling to lessen the numbers and then take them on as they come through the gate."

"I suppose that could work if he is as you say. I should have enough men to keep things busy, although I can't pull too many from where they are or the Pazzi will become suspicious. At most I can give you twelve men."

"Twelve? I had hoped for twenty," Ezio frowned, thinking.

"It'll be nine since someone has to wear your robes," Catherine added, lifting up the pack. The young man grinned, though, as he shook his head.

"Not if _you_ wear it."

She blinked at him, "…Me?"

"Yes, of course. You're the only one who could pull 'me' off right, and it will be big enough on you they won't be able to tell you are a woman. You can lure him out easy and you won't even have to speak. Just walk and maybe attack some like I do."

"Oh, yeah, easy enough. Just walk like my cock is too big for my pants, got it," she snickered, strutting around in such a way Michelangelo chuckled and Ezio rolled his eyes. She smirked as she opened the pack to pull out his top, looking it over. "Yeah, I can pull it off."

"Then my men will be at your disposal, little one," the mercenary chuckled. "I can't be there myself, so command is yours."

"Ohohohoh… command over my own little army, mm? I quite like that. Always knew I was a born leader," she hummed playfully.

Ezio chuckled as he touched her shoulder, "Just don't get carried away, _Commander_. The idea is to just make a distraction. Don't put yourself in unnecessary danger—you or the men."

"I'm sorry, but who is the one who saves whom from trouble and reminds him constantly to stay out of it, hmm?" she inquired, brow raised as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Calm down you two. Remember you have a man to kill and you have men to lead and keep safe," Michelangelo said sternly, looking to them both. Both calmed at once and Ezio pulled the helmet over his head. He made sure to tuck his pony tail inside as best he could and fixed the rest of his gear. Catherine, like-wise, pulled his cloak out, but ended up leaving his heavier armor. She tested out the garb and found it didn't fit all that well over hers, meaning she would have to change. Unfortunately, it would be bulky, but as she thought on it, that was probably a good thing; it would hide her more feminine shape. She would have to change later, though, and so, that done, they nodded, and the mercenary did the same. "When do you plan to attack?"

Ezio paused as he thought, glancing to the barely pink sky, "…Tonight. He mentioned more men will come tomorrow, and he changes the guards just after sunset. You need to strike then."

"How we will know when exactly?" Catherine asked, adjusting her double hood, which was a little awkward. Again Ezio paused as he thought.

"You'll have to stick close and watch. When the gate is open and guards go in and out more than usual, that's the time to attack."

"You should keep my men further back from where you are then," the mercenary told Catherine. "The guards won't be changing quickly, so as soon as you see it whistle to them—they know to answer."

"Got it… So. When do I meet my troops?" the redhead smirked slightly, and Michelangelo couldn't help returning it.

"Just as soon as you change. As for you, Ezio, keep safe and good luck."

With that, things were set into motion.

Posing as a guard yet again, the young man returned to the villa and placed himself within the enemy ranks. Catherine, meanwhile, quickly changed into his gear and was pleased to find her earlier assessment rang true: it was just loose enough to hide her feminine form, but wouldn't get in the way of her movements. It did feel weird to wear it, but it was what it was, and so she left with Michelangelo to meet the troops. He was in charge of all of them in _Toscana_ at the moment, having earned the right some time ago, so he had to see to the other men and make sure they stayed safe, else he would no doubt have joined. She understood, though, and really her only worry was that the men here might not appreciate her, as a woman, being in command. She wouldn't blame them, although might think less of them after all the work Mario put in with them.

However, Catherine ended up pleasantly surprised when the men apparently had no qualms. Michelangelo simply gave the orders, deemed her the temporary leader for their mission—they had to listen for the call to arms and then fall back at her command—and that was it. She just had to make sure they all stayed safe, and that they were kept occupied enough until the changing of the Pazzi guards came. For that, she had them checking and double checking their weapons and keeping track of patrols in the woods as they waited. That, thankfully was only to be for a few hours with the sun setting soon enough and the dark blanket of night pulling over them. She left the men to their post to wait for her whistle, while she drew closer towards the villa, keeping to the trees and brush nearby.

It was a grand place; certainly befitting one who had as much wealth and power as their target. The walls were tall with at least two archers on each stretch, standing alert on the dark tiles. Towering above and within those walls was a larger structure—the main house. It was not unlike some of the homes back in the city or in _San Gimignano_, albeit far larger, of course, and with a great deal more palatial qualities to it. Even in the dark and with only torch light to see it or her memories of scouting it, she knew it was no doubt even more grandiose inside. It was almost a shame the grounds would be spilled with blood, but that could at least eventually be cleaned up. If they were lucky, they could potentially instill their own ally here once the man was dead.

That would come later, though; for now the focus on ending the man, and with that her thoughts went to Ezio. She didn't doubt he was okay and that he would succeed, but she worried all the same. How could she not? She cared for him—a lot. She wasn't sure it was just a crush anymore, either. The long months since Maffei's death had only kept them closer. Constantly scouting and moving from safe house to safe house had ensured they were always together and sometimes had to share a bed more than once. They always had one another's backs, and there was always some form of laughter or merriment going on between them. He flirted as usual and made his jokes, and she couldn't help falling for every single one.

And yet—the uncertainty.

Even after all this time she couldn't tell if he actually felt anything, and it didn't help he _did_ fool around with the courtesans or some frivolous little thing he met on a mission or at random. Was it just to make her jealous or did he really not care? She didn't know, and he wouldn't be forward with her about it if he did, and she was too much of a coward to ask. She didn't want to be disappointed again, although she was starting to wonder if it would just be better to rip the Band-Aid off at this point. Of course, in the end, she knew she wouldn't say anything. She was just that cowardly, but she was able to hide it behind their work. It kept her busy and from thinking on things too much, although it was always there waiting to rear its head like it did now.

_'As usual,' _the redhead mused as she shifted, peering into the dark at a group of soldiers. One man was heavily armored, though not a giant brute. He carried a long spear, and she recalled how annoying it was to fight them. Mario had begun to train them at once after their first encounter—and thankfully victory—had left them sore and bruised, so they did have the experience they needed to handle them, but it didn't make the guard any less of a pain. The rest of the troops were the usual, so such a group wouldn't be too hard to deal with so long as she took out the long weapon first.

However, the other issues came about soon enough: other Pazzi. There were at least three of five or six soldiers—the dark did make it a little hard to see—so that gave fifteen right there, and if there were more inside to change with them, that would make almost thirty guards to their thirteen mercenaries including her. It wasn't good numbers, but she did have her secret weapon.

Reaching into her pocket, she grasped the Clock, mentally telling it to prepare. While she hadn't had to use it much over the past few months—much to her relief—she always kept it ready just in case. She loathed using the power to kill, but she had come to accept that it was inevitable she would use it and that she had to in order to ensure Ezio—and herself—survived. That, and so she could go home. If using it meant she could do that, then she would simple endure the guilt. At the very least she could have some relief knowing she had garnered a bit of control, however miniscule. Her work with Mario had done well, and she could almost get her heart to race whenever she needed, which would cause it to activate, and then slow her beat to stop it—or something like that. She wasn't quite sure that was it, but it was a way to describe it. Of course, it wasn't perfect and sometimes in battles when it did work she lost that control, but things were better. Sort of.

Catherine released the item as she saw the gates open, the sound reaching her just as well. Her eyes flicked to the rooftops where the archer were moving to the opposite ends of their post, watching. It was dark, though, and they would be hidden well enough until they were much closer. By then it should be too late, but the archer were still an issue. She would need to take them out as best she could and so freed a few throwing knives. Her gaze returned to the gate where guards were going in. It was time, or as close as it was to it.

The redhead moved from the bushes silently, though it was broken as she whistled. Behind her, she heard the shuffle of feet as her men moved to catch up to her. With a quick motion of her hands that she'd learned from Mario, they split into two groups of six; one to the right, one to the left. They would come from either side while she moved ahead, luring the Pazzi out. She was a bit too far to throw a knife just yet, but with a few more steps—there.

A quick throw of her arm and the knife shot through the air, hitting the man in the chest. The shock—and perhaps a bit of force—sent him stumbling back and over the edge. The shouts came instantly. The men at the gates paused and then stared out into the dark, brandishing their weapons. The other archer at the front readied his bow, but another throw and he fell forward, landing right on his head. He did not move after. The other archers were in bad spots, so she didn't pay them much mind as she drew her blade next and stepped closer, finally in the light. She was before the men now, and through them she saw a man in simple clothes watching her, an axe in hand.

Francesco Salviati.

"I see you there Assassin! Men, get into formation!" he shouted, pouting at her; not unlike a cornered dog trying to pretend it had a bite. His guards did, however, and were already attempting to work proper positions through the gate. "These walls have stood for a hundred years and will stand for a hundred more!"

Catherine took a step forward and whistled. From the darkness her mercenaries appeared and attacked, taking out a handful of guards from the initial surprise before they were able to amount a counterstrike.

"Stop wasting the lives of your men!" the target shouted. Her eyes moved from him to his personal guard, trying to figure out which was Ezio. The man was still not vulnerable enough. She took another step forward.

"Go away! All that awaits you is death! Turn back!"

Coward. He was afraid, and that made him all the more open to attack. Her men were doing well, too, cutting down the weaker guards. The spearman was coming, though, and so she breached the distance left between. She struck at him hard and fast. She ducked below his swing, rolling out of the way, and then caught the pole as he tried to thrust at her. She wrapped her arm around it and then used her other arm to release her hidden blade and shove it straight into his throat. He gurgled, eyes wide, and then fell as soon as she retracted the weapon. A sound behind her caught her attention and she saw a brute charging as he swung his axe. She briefly panicked, not having expected or seen him, but her Clock was there to give her the edge. Time slowed enough for her to avoid his weapon and then once again use her blade to get between the armor of his neck and kill him as time returned to normal. He, too, showed shock—whether or not for having died or her having moved faster than should have been possible from his view—and dropped. She turned to face the target as the men around her fought, gazing at him from beneath the hood.

His panic was all too evident.

"I warned you to stay away, Assassin! You should have listened! Men, attack! Kill the Assassin!" he howled, waving his axe and motioning others forward. His personal regiment was cut in half as the other Pazzi made to join their brothers, which put her little army at a great disadvantage. She would have to retreat soon to not suffer any losses, but she needed to wait on Ezio.

Then—movement in the back. Even as she freed her blade and jousted with a guard she saw it. One was moving unlike the others from behind the man. She saw the glimmer of metal in the torch light. She saw the target jerk unnatural, gasping as he was struck in the back. The other reacted with shouts of surprise, but Ezio was a force to be reckoned with. Though he didn't have his usual armor, he was able to outmatch them; ducking beneath their swords or blocking them with his grieves or blade, and then slashing necks, guts, and legs. Their smaller numbers made them go down quickly, but that still left little time to get what information he wanted or to give the target peace. Still, Ezio did and she saw him close the man's eyes.

"Fall back! It's done! Fall back!" she shouted, waving to the men as she turned and raced back. Thankfully, all her mercenaries heard and fell back, or those that were left. She couldn't get a count just yet, and with guards on their heel, she didn't have the time. They pressed into the trees to help lose the Pazzi, which worked well enough. The number of their pursuers decreased at least by half and any who got too close were taken care of. From there, they pressed on, though had to pause to help one man who had taken a severe injury to the leg. They refused to leave him, and so two carried him towards a mercenary holding while she watched the back, ready to mislead anymore unwanted followers.

By some miracle, they made it the rest of the way unmolested. The injured man was set onto a makeshift table where his wound was tended to as best as they could, but he needed a doctor. One of their scouts raced to get him while Catherine did what she could to make sure the wound was well sealed by whatever cloth she could find. From there she looked to the other men, noting one was missing. She lamented the loss, but war was brutal, and it showed in the fresh wounds. Many had cuts here and there, and bruises to be sure, but the man with the hurt leg seemed to be the worse. She was alright herself, although she noted there were some new holes in her and Ezio's clothes, and some blood stains that were from her. Her injuries could wait, though, as a figure in red appeared outside.

She was alert at once, brandishing her blade, as did the other men, but then paused as the man pulled off his helmet. She would know his face anywhere.

"Ezio! You made it out alright—of course," she chuckled as she sheathed her blade and motioned him inside.

He chuckled, "Well, it wasn't entirely easy, but the confusion allowed for me to climb the walls and escape. I imagine they're all still running around looking for the normal me—or rather _you_ right now. But how are the men? I saw one had fallen…"

"We are alright, although Marcos' leg was hit bad. A doctor should be coming soon."

"This was a victory, though. Mario would be proud of all of you," Catherine added, to which the men grinned. "For now, rest and eat. We need to keep a low profile until the chaos blows over. I'd even suggest having one group move to another location tonight when you can to avoid any suspicion."

One man nodded, "We can do that—we're not badly hurt. You shouldn't stick around, either. They are looking for you after all."

"Of course. Thank-you, and be safe, friends," Ezio replied, holding out his hand which the man shook. The mercenary kept it out for Catherine, too, whom returned the gesture.

He spared her a smirk, "Not bad commanding, although you could use a bit more practice."

"You volunteering?" she smirked right back, earning a laugh before her companion nudged her and motioned with his head to go. She chuckled, "Maybe next time. And I am sorry for the loss. I'll do better next time. For now… stay safe yourself."

Things moved yet again. While the deed was done, safety was now their priority and the Pazzi would be actively searching in the dark. Thus, they moved quickly and off the beaten path not to the nearest safe house, but one not too far away, either. It belonged to an older couple running a small mill, and they were allowed in the shack by the stores, using a make-shift bed for sleeping. It worked well enough, and although the location wasn't the best, they didn't complain. They were putting the people at risk, after all; it would have been callous of them to complain.

"Right, so, here's your gear back," Catherine mused as she pulled off the white cloak and handed it over. He was happy to have it, and to start undressing. She flushed immediately and turned around—much to his amusement of course—to wait for him to put his normal gear on. Generally they wouldn't sleep in it, but they needed to be ready to move just in case. As such she put on her own gear and began to shift hay and items here and there to try and make things more comfortable.

"Salviati talked before he died. Not a lot, but enough," the young man explained as he sat down on the hay. She joined him, leaning back on her arms and watching him expectantly. He sighed softly. "All he said was that Jacopo knows we are after him, but apparently he will only come out at night to meet with 'the others'. I can only assume that means the other conspirators."

"I take it he didn't say where?" she inquired, and he nodded. She chewed her lip. "Damn… well, at least now we can tell Giuseppe to start having the night watch keep a sharper eye out. Maybe we'll find sign of the old man?"

"I hope so… but that still leave two more besides Jacopo to kill. Three men yet remain, and their master is still out of our reach," the young man growled. Catherine reached over to grasp his hand.

"We'll get him," she replied firmly, squeezing as such. "We already have one piece of the puzzle. The other conspirators will talk, too—we'll make them. Somehow."

"I hope you are right. Maffei was too mad, and Salviati spat in my face and then ended his own life when I put a dagger to him to get more. He was taunting me… his words could be lies."

"Maybe, but maybe not. He could have said it to make you search and try and hope you failed, too. These Templars are tricksters, you know."

He looked to her and squeezed her hand back, "Whatever the case may be, we'll search and not stop until they are finished—not until we avenge my father and brothers and all they have wrong."

She smiled warmly, "Damn right we will… but we can start once the coast is clear and we return to _Monteriggioni_… For right now, though, I'll take first watch."

"No, I've got it. I'm still fired up from before. You get some rest and I'll wake you in a few hours," Ezio smiled, and she waited, considering protest, but then nodded.

"You did good today, you know," she told him as she settled down, turned towards him on her side with an arm tucked beneath her head. He had been watching the door, but looked down to her. She pointed to his chest, where she knew his emblem was. She'd seen him wearing it once when he "teased" her by loosening his shirt. "_That_ is forever proof of it. Just so you know."

The young man waited a moment before chuckled softly, "Thank-you. As always. Now rest, Catherine."

The redhead grinned right on back, and, content he believed her, closed her eyes knowing he would keep her safe and that the world was a little better off with a cruel man gone from this world.

* * *

**38 **_– End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap! So, lots of time is going by at the moment, and a lot of changes are coming to Monteriggioni and such. I figured the city was a lot bigger than the game world had it, so I've been trying to make it expand realistically and such. So the city is getting a lot bigger, and there's definitely more people and what not. It's going to continue to grow, too, as time goes on. As for Catzio, well, they're steadily getting closer thanks to their new... sleeping arrangements haha... yes, it's rather scandalous for these times, but hey, Assassins work outside the norms and they do what they have to do. That, and Ezio_ definitely _does mind xD_

_So... well, not really much to say this time around-it's all pretty much there. As for next chapter... Got some drama coming your way guys, hahaha. Get reeeeeeeeeeeeady ;D_


	40. Hopeless Wanderer

**TMWolf: **_Update time, guys! Yaaaaaaay! Alrighty, so this is the drama-llama chapter, but not a huge llama... but, y'know, drama. So get ready! Other than that I don't have much news, so woo hoo!_

_Per usual, how characters are portrayed is my interpretation based upon the canon material. _

_Thank-you for all the reviews! I really do love getting them, so feel free to drop a comment, ask a question, or whatever you'd like! :) I always like to know what ya'll think!_

_Today's chapter is from Mumford &amp; Son's - Hopeless Wanderer. I think the lyrics fit well enough :)_

_Now onto the show!_

* * *

**39 **– _Hopeless Wanderer_

* * *

**April 30, 1479**

**Toscana, Italy**

"Damn."

Catherine frowned as she looked down at the splotch of black ink on her parchment, blotting out some of the words she had written. She glared slightly at the quill in her hands and set it aside before sighing and putting the paper down. She had made such a good summary of things that had gone on for the past many months, too—something to tell her mother when she got home. Or, rather, _if_ she did. Regardless, she had thought of writing a letter about a week ago, and lamented how she had forgotten the concept almost all together while being so busy scouting and dealing with the Pazzi. She was laden with guilt of course, but worked to remedy it, writing as much as she could while they went about looking for their next target.

Yet, her pen had deemed it time to forget that idea for the moment and impede her work on that particular page. It wasn't_ too _ruined, and she already had a lot written down on the other pages, so it wasn't a total loss. At the very least she figured it could make up for the letters she hadn't written; the last one being so long ago she couldn't remember. Once back in _Monteriggioni_ she could check the dates, but even the notion of discovering that made her wince. It had been far too long that she'd done right by her mother. Of course, thinking on that made her realize just how long it had been since she'd last seen her.

Three years.

_Three_ long years. It was maybe shy by a few months, but it was still a long, long time. So much had changed, too, and now she wondered if her mother would even recognize her. The redhead sighed again as she pulled a gloved hand off, looking down at the upturned palm. Her hands had remained mostly unmarred thanks to the fact she wore the material, but she could feel some of the rough patches; spot where there had been old scars or blisters. They were very different from the hands she'd come here with, and of course her body had changed even more. She was more of a proper woman now—twenty-two. She had seen the changes in her shape; more rounded hips, slightly thinner waist. Her practice and work had given her more muscular tone as well—along with new scars. She thought she felt a bit taller sometimes, and she swore her face seemed a little narrower, but she couldn't be sure. She rarely gave the time to admire herself, although she'd caught herself doing it a few times before. Personally, she blamed Ezio, and the annoying feelings she had for him.

It was hard to ignore them, though, when they were constantly side by side. Almost every mission; almost every scouting; certainly in every safe house; almost in every bed. For the most part, she was inured to his presence and didn't feel uncomfortable in any way. She trusted him to behave, and it was just something they had to do now. Yet, sometimes it was hard. Of course, it was a wonder how she didn't go insane with some of his antics—his favorite being to go shirtless on warm nights. Those were the worst, and her face burned hotter than her body did from the actual heat of the day because she refused to take off her own shirt. Not to mention he teased her and made a point to "show off" when he undressed, and generally when she least expected it.

Honestly, he was the worst.

But she liked him.

A lot.

A lot-a-lot.

It was torture. Really, it was. She _wanted_ things she shouldn't have wanted; things she had never wanted before. She _imagined_ things she should never had before, and it was trouble. Pure trouble, but she couldn't help it or stop. His teasing weakened her resolve, too, and she could only just barely let it pass.

Even now she flushed at just the memory. It was in such moments she wished she had her mom here to help her with. At least, that is, until she realized her mother might not necessarily be the best person to ask. Maybe. Kinda. She'd never actually been sure about talking about these things with her, being that she'd never been in a situation where she would need to. That, and how was she supposed to explain to her mother she was suddenly three years older and having unsafe thoughts about a guy she'd been sharing a bed with, albeit in a nonsexual way? She didn't know, really, and that wasn't even the worst part.

_'No, the worst part is wondering if I really _can _go back,' _Catherine grumbled as she took off her other glove and then worked on her gear.

She had only been back from her scouting for Bernardo Baroncelli for maybe an hour or two, whom was supposed to be in the area. He was a crafty one, so it was a struggle, and she was glad to finally be done after a fruitless day. However, her dour thoughts were getting somewhat in the way. Then again, who could blame her? Not knowing if one could go home was rather disheartening.

Sure, the "god" has said she would; said once she finished her task she would be returned home. The big question there, though, was when did her task end? What did she need to do to finish? She'd saved Ezio once with Vieri, but that only seemed the beginning. Her Clock had done some great moments before, too, but nothing quite as grand as that night or in the attack on the Medici. So when? When did the moment come when she would protect Ezio and be able to return home? The god could have at least told her that, but, no—he had to be cryptic. Asshat.

"Then again," she rumbled as a notion came to mind—one which made her pause, "what if… do I even… _want_ to go back?"

This wasn't the first time she had thought of it, either. No, there were times in the quiet dark of night where she wondered if she _did_ get the option to go back—would she take it? A normal person might have had no hesitation in saying "yes", but she paused every time. She believed she wanted to say yes, but as her silence went on, she realized maybe—just maybe—she didn't. Three years was a long time, after all, and this place, despite being so far from her own time, had become a home to her. She had close friends here—ones she would die for, and they her. She had a people to call her own, and that looked to her for leadership at times. She had a family that accepted her; loved her. And then there was that insufferable idiot she was falling for more and more every day.

How could she leave it all behind?

Guilt filled her at that question. How could she not? She was all her mother had left—at least in her immediate family. She was the only daughter and with her father gone for so long, it had been just the two of them even while she was at college. They had come to rely on one another and helped each other out. Surely she couldn't leave her mother like that—to despair over the loss of another? To put her through losing a husband and child?

Yet, her mother still had her other family; her brothers, sisters, and her own parents lived. They had been at the family castle with them, after all. She wouldn't be completely alone, and her mother had always been a strong woman thanks to her hard work and faith. Surely she would be fine? Right?

Groaning, Catherine rubbed her face as her dilemma was laid bare yet again. In the end, she knew it came down to a choice: go home to her mother or stay here with Ezio and the others. Go home to do right by her mother, or stay and claim her own happiness. She didn't know what the right thing to do was, and she hated when it haunted her on these nights.

"Ugh, where is Ezio when you need him. Sure he would be a pill, but at least it would distract me," she grumbled, shaking what tumultuous thoughts she could from her mind and removing the last of her gear besides her boots—just in case she had to head out and find him. The jerk had been staying out later and later these days on his scouting regime after all. Sometimes it was after she'd gone to sleep, and so there had been awkward moments where she'd almost stabbed him. It didn't help he occasional reeked of alcohol and more pleasant scents that only came from one place in particular. She knew exactly where, but she'd kept her mouth shut so far. He could do what he wanted—he was a grown man-child—but she was starting to wonder if he ever got anything done these days. He had gotten cocky after the last victory it felt like, or he at least kept boasting to every courtesan he could find who would listen to their "stories". She'd caught him in the act once, and she didn't doubt he liked to do it on any "breaks".

Once again, Catherine sighed and rubbed her face. She also reminded herself a second time it wasn't her business was he did on his own time, and he _did_ work. She was just being petty and jealous, even if it wasn't right he would come home a touch drunk at times. Mario certainly would have been _furious_ and beaten the shit out of him for it. She wasn't Mario, though, and she and Ezio were equals. They couldn't tell one another what to do or how to do things, but still—she wished he had more self-control.

"Let's just sleep and get ready for more work tomorrow," she murmured as she grabbed a knife from her pouch and put it beneath her pillow. She settled down then, slipping under the covers, and keeping an ear out for danger, though doing what she could to nod off.

She got, perhaps, nearly there when she heard the scuffle of boots outside, and some soft giggle-like sounds. She was pretty sure of who it was, but retrieved her knife anyways, slipped from the sheets, and pushed up against the wall adjacent to the door. She kept her breathing quiet and slow and tightened her grip on her knife. She waited silently, listening to the sounds coming closer until she heard some mumbling—something about a "great night" or what not. She recognized the voice, though, and rolled her eyes as she returned towards the bed, setting her knife on the nightstand next to the still-lit candle. She sat down then, crossing her arms, and waiting for the door to open.

It did so moments later, and a very happy looking Ezio emerged, his gear a bit disheveled along with his hair. She could already smell the booze and aromatics on him, and he had that _look_—that stupid face he made after a good night of being "satisfied".

So. She had been right.

Again.

"Had fun?" she mused, though it came out harsher than she meant. Or, at least, she thought she didn't mean for it to. Maybe she did. This really wasn't the first time. In fact, it was just the latest of a very long line. Why shouldn't she get mad or upset?

"As fun as scouting can be," he grinned, not bothering to hide how awful of a lie that was.

"I take it we weren't looking for the same thing, though."

He sighed with mock-exasperation as he closed the door behind him, "Catherine, come oooon. Don't be like that."

She raised a brow as he plopped down beside her onto his back, "Like what?"

"Pouty. Mad at me. I know when you are," he mused, languidly pointing a finger her way and then waving it back down. "There is nothing wrong with having a bit of fun, and it was after I was done—I promised, remember?"

"I remember you promised to behave but then didn't really hold up to it all," she grumbled, standing up with a sigh. She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Well, if you're not too drunk: what did you find?"

"Do we really have to discuss this now? I would rather go to sleep first," he rumbled, lazily putting an arm over his eyes.

"Yes, well, _some_ of us take the job seriously and make a point to consolidate info before bed to prepare for tomorrow morning. Did those courtesans fuck your brain, too?"

She winced as soon as she said it. She didn't know why she said it. Her mouth had just kept moving, but she'd said it, and now the more she thought on it, she wasn't really sorry at all for it. Ezio _had_ been slacking lately. Apparently, the young man disagreed; he sat up with a frown, even glowering a little.

"I didn't realize I was breaking some law by having fun after work, but if you _insist_: I didn't find anything. There. Happy?" he huffed.

"Then maybe we should scout around the countryside tomorrow. I can take north, and you south?" she offered, keeping her snap at bay.

"Yes, yes, fine, fine—just stop acting like Mario already."

She felt a slight stab, and growled, "I wouldn't have to if you stopped slacking!"

"'Slacking'?" he snapped right back, sitting up and glaring proper. "_I'm_ 'slacking'? As I recall, I've done just as much work as you, and gone on every mission, and some of them I did more work than you!"

"But I'm not the one who goes running off as soon as he's done to get drunk and fuck every open pair of legs he sees!" she hissed, throwing her hands up.

He stood up, scowling, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I somehow miss the meeting where we're not allowed to have fun?"

"You can have fun once we find our target and kill him! He's been seen in the city—it's our duty to go find and end him!"

"Duty! Duty, duty, duty, duty—work, work, work! That's all you ever talk about! Maybe we deserve a break once in a while, huh? Maybe we've done a damn good job and deserve to have a little fun? It's not my fault you don't make good on it! So don't get mad at me if you don't take the chance!"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, that our duty is putting the mission first? Maybe killing the people that killed your family and hundreds of other innocents, and plan to harm society as we know is more important than your 'fun'? Both Giovani and Federico would be rolling in their graves to see you right now! Drunk and caring more about yourself than stopping the Templars!"

He charged forward, coming inches from her as his eyes flared and fingers tightened into fists at his side dangerously, "Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare tell me what they'd think! You were only with them for a few months—you don't fucking know them! They weren't _your _family! They're _mine_, and they're _dead_! The Templars killed _my_ family! You don't think I know how important this is!? I want them dead more than anyone else—certainly more than _you_! So don't you fucking dare lecture me about it!"

"Maybe I need to because apparently even knowing all that you still can't focus on the damn mission!" she snapped right back, not backing down.

"And you know what you need to do? You need to stop being a prudish shrew for one God damned moment of your life!"

"Excuse me?" she balked, hands balling into fists at her side, too.

His glare intensified, "You heard me—you're a damn shrew _and_ prude! All you do is talk about work and duty and then you try and have the gall tell me how I'm supposed to do the same—how my father and brothers would be ashamed of me? What the hell do you know!? Maybe if you actually let yourself have an ounce of fun you can actually live a little! Hell, a man might even actually finally want you!"

She had a retort waiting as he spoke, but the last words completely demolished it. She knew he didn't mean it. She knew she hadn't meant it, either. Not really. He was half-drunk, and he was angry, and she was angry and upset and they'd both said things they neither actually meant.

But it hurt.

It hurt a _lot_.

It hurt more than any wound she had received.

No man wanted her.

_He_ didn't want her.

She had known it, but now it was confirmed by the one person she hadn't wanted to hear it from.

She hurt. And she was angry. The pain made her angrier, and even as a twinge of regret crossed Ezio's face while her eyes became wet and stung, it would not settle. She clenched her teeth, keeping the harsh words at bay. She lifted her hand, balled even tighter now, to strike across his cheek. She almost did. She almost swung; almost took her anger and hurt out on him. In the end, though, she squeezed her eyes shut, pushed back the tears, and let her hand fall back to her side, still clenched. She looked at him then, and she saw he had realized what he said, too. It was too late, though. The truth was there, and her heart sank deep into her gut. She had so much she wanted to say and do, but she just knew most of all she needed to get away. So in the end, she could only muster a few words that hardly touched the surface of things.

"You're not even worth it," she managed to rasp out, still angry and still even more hurt, and then spun on her heels, threw the door open, and ran.

Ezio watched her go, his anger brewing a fire that would not ebb even as the door slammed and the echo of her footsteps faded bringing in the silence of the night. Even as the seconds turned into minutes it did not cool, and he kicked over a bucket left on the floor, spilling the remaining water. Snarling, he grabbed the bottle of wine the redheaded woman had drank with her dinner and guzzled down what remained. It still did not satiate him, and he threw it hard enough so that it shattered against the far well. He cursed beneath his breath as he sat on the bed, glaring at nothing really. He was just angry—half drunk and angry and tired and angry.

How dare she say those things!? How dare she try to tell him what his father and brother would think! He was doing good work! He was doing right by them and stopping the Templars! So what if he was having some fun on the side once he was all done for the day? His father didn't work all the time as an Assassin, although his time was kept busy with banking! Yet, Ezio had reminded his father of himself as a boy, so surely he'd done the same. There was nothing wrong with it. He was having fun, as he deserved after his hard work. Catherine was wrong! Everything was fine, and she was just being a prude shrew who didn't know how to have an ounce of fun and only felt the need to lecture him like she was his mother or sister or Mario! Like she knew better! She had no right, so it was good riddance!

That, Ezio was certain of, so he fumed in his sense of rightness. He sat there on their bed, fuming and fuming and fuming; fingers clenching and unclenching; gritting his teeth and biting his lip. Yet, as the minutes grew longer and closer to an hour, the fire that had burned so hot settled some. The silence gave him nothing more to be angry about, and with no more drink to fuel the embers, he began to sober.

It was then he began to really notice the silence; notice how dark it was; how cold it was; how _empty_ it was.

He glanced to the other side of the bed where Catherine was—or should have been. She wasn't there, though. Her side was cold. He couldn't hear her breathing; couldn't see her lying there calmly, except for the small instances where he would see her face tighten with some concern in her dream. She would never tell him why, though he knew it was her regret over his family. The one that had taken her in—had been her family. People she had no reason to love, but did and had tried and wanted to help. People she regretted being unable to save just as much as he had regretted.

Ezio cursed as he ran his hands through his hair.

He was an idiot.

They _both_ were.

Damned, God-forsaken fools, the both of them.

He had been drunk, and she had been annoyed, and they had been angry, and said stupid things. And now? Now he'd pushed away the one person he could trust his life with. They had forced each other away with their stupid, angry words, and now he didn't have her there to watch his back; to help him when he needed it most. He was not there for her, either; he wasn't there to protect her—to keep her safe and make her laugh and give him that smile he loved. No, he'd called her a prude shrew, just as she had called him a shameful failure to his family, and neither of them had meant it. He knew she didn't. She never would mean it, despite any annoyance she had with his antics. Just as he hadn't meant to say no man wanted her. She might not have been as carefree as some, but she was none of what he said. Neither of them were.

No, they were just too stupid to think straight, and too angry to not hurt one another.

Standing up, his head much clearer now, Ezio made for the door. His eyes flashed as he used his Vision, searching for signs. Just barely, he caught a figure of gold running in the distance. He knew what needed to be done, and so he did not waste another moment.

**-O-**

From the moment Catherine had made it out of the door, she didn't stop. No, she went into a full blown run, and she kept running.

And running.

And running.

And running.

And running.

She ran until it hurt.

She ran until she was gasping for air.

She ran until her lungs burned.

She ran until her legs ached.

She ran until she could go no further and collapsed.

She braced against the nearby rock, leaning against it; panting furiously. Sweat stung at her eyes along with the tears she forced back by wiping at them. She didn't know where she was, and she didn't care. She didn't know how far she ran, but it didn't matter. She only had to get away from there—from him; from the pain. Except, it followed. It was there, stuck; brewing; simmering; burning her.

He didn't want her. Oh, she knew he didn't mean it, but she couldn't stop herself. It had hit the rawest point inside her and destroyed her hopes. She had felt this way before—been in this situation before—and the wound she'd once thought had healed was ripped open anew. It hurt worse this time, though. It was unbearable, and ultimately she couldn't fight back her tears anymore. They ran freely and were coupled with a few sobs she couldn't stifle. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face into them, arms wrapped around to keep them close. She sobbed for a long while, hating herself for being stupid and for Ezio's words. She hated this—feeling this way. She wanted it to stop, but she couldn't. She couldn't last time, either, and she felt more strongly for Ezio.

Worse still, she knew she had deserved it. She had deserved every bit of the hurt that made her this way. She deserved to ache and to be heart broken and to find it hard to breathe. She had said such terrible things to him. She had not meant it at all—she had just been angry and hurt and said it without thinking. She _never_ would have said it otherwise. She knew it was all lies, and she didn't even know why she said it. Except, that wasn't true; she knew she had wanted to hurt Ezio then. He had made her mad and she wanted to get back at him, so she'd insulted him in the worst way. She had known it was the worst way, too, and knew how much his family meant to him, but she'd turned it into a knife she stuck into him without hesitation. She supposed her only redemption was the remorse she felt. It burned into her far more than the air did her lungs. It destroyed her insides; made her feel like the piece of shit she was. Ezio no doubt hated her—loathed her. How could he not? What she said was unforgivable. _She_ hated herself for it.

Damn her. Damn feeling this way. Damn it all. Damn her weakness.

Her sobs went on for what felt hours, becoming weak sniffles and then occasional sniffs of her nose as she calmed. At least, outwardly. Inwardly the mess remained and would for some time. It was impossible not to and she hated it.

Catherine shivered as a breeze came through, cooler than she had thought it would be. She still didn't move, though; she was too exhausted. Everything still hurt. Her legs. Her chest. Her head. Her heart. She didn't want to move. She just wanted to stay there forever and be left alone and never have to go back. Forget the Templars. Forget the Assassins. Forget everything. She just wanted to be alone and left to rot that way.

Yet, even as she wished for it, she heard movement in the grass. She should have jumped up and been ready to fight. She should have been careful, but she didn't care right now. The footsteps came closer, and she tightened the grip on her knees. It was dark, so she didn't think anyone could have easily seen her. She had a suspicion who it was, and that scared her a little. It was the one person she didn't want to see, and so she flinched when she heard the steps stop just next to her; heard the faint sounds of a soft sigh. A deep silence followed for a few, long moments, and then more movement. She heard the familiar thud of a body on the ground, and a grunt as armor hit rock. She still did not move or speak; just sat there with her new company. Like the first silence, this one lasted a long time; perhaps even longer still. A desire to flee came over her again, but she felt the exhaustion worse. She couldn't muster the strength to move, and so was at his mercy.

"Catherine," his voice called out softly, gently. She didn't look up, though; just curled tighter into herself. She heard his soft sigh. "Catherine… I… I'm sorry… I…"

She flinched, and, after a moment, sighed. His pause—his mournful tone—pulled her from her melancholy. Not a lot, but enough to lift her head from her knees. She imagined her eyes had to be puffy and red, and her nose equally so. She was a mess and she knew it. Still, she forced herself to talk; forced herself to just say _something_.

"Don't—," she began, pausing when she bit her lip briefly. She tasted copper as she went on, weaker, "Don't apologize… you don't… you don't need to be sorry. I… I um… I didn't… God, I didn't mean it—what I said. I should never have said it, but I did and I'm—I'm so sorry—I didn't… I didn't mean _any _of it. Giovanni and Federico and Petruccio are proud of you—I know they are. I don't know why I said it, and I didn't mean it. I was angry and stupid and I just… I said it and didn't mean it, and I'm so, _so _sorry… and then… fuck it all, dammit… I shouldn't… have… I shouldn't be like that—to you. You can do what you want. You're free to. I shouldn't judge. I shouldn't have said that stuff, either. If you want to go have fun you do it. You're free to do it. You're right—you deserve to. You've earned it. I was wrong, and I'm sorry, and I didn't mean any of it, and I… I just…."

Another sigh, this one tired and burdened. She saw movement; saw his hands rub against his face as he stared at the ground.

"No—_you_ shouldn't apologize. I started this mess. I was the one going off having fun more than I should. I was drunk, too. What I said was wrong. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it," he replied, briefly glancing at her. "And you _should_ tell me not to go do so much of that. You're right—I shouldn't be frolicking about like I am. I should be taking it more seriously. I shouldn't be getting drunk or romping around with every woman I see. I shouldn't, and I promised I wouldn't, and I'm sorry. I should be focusing, and making my father and brother proud, but I'm not, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. You're not a prude. Or a shrew. You're nothing like that. I only said it because I was mad and angry and drunk, but I didn't mean it. Please believe me—I didn't. I promise."

Catherine didn't know what to think. She wanted to believe what he said. She wanted to believe he meant the words, but she was tired and weak. She was torn and bruised, and didn't know what she wanted anymore. So she stayed quiet, head resting on her knees as she closed her eyes. At least there was _one_ thing she briefly knew she wanted: sleep.

"…Catherine?" Ezio called out tentatively.

"You were right, though," she sighed deeply. "I am prude… no man wants a prude."

"Catherine, no—I told you, you're _not _a prude. The things you said—I _need_ you to tell me that. I need you to keep me from doing all those stupid things. It may not be what I _want_ to hear, but it's what I _need_ to hear—what I _need_ to do. I need you there for that. You're not a prude. Or a shrew. You're just doing what's right. I should have realized it, but I was drunk. I was a fool."

The redhead lifted her head slightly, looking over towards him. She kept her eyes on his boots as she pondered on the words. They helped—a little. Maybe he did mean it then. Of course, even if it soothed the pain, she was still sore. It made things a little better, though, and she supposed that was enough. At the very least, she could be somewhat content and let herself think he didn't mean it. Maybe that would be enough to convince herself later.

Letting out a deep breath of air, the redhead slowly leaned to her left, and let her head hit the edge of his shoulder. He flinched, possibly with surprise, though she couldn't tell. He didn't move away, though.

"I really didn't mean what I said about your family—they're proud of you. I promise…. And I guess that makes us both idiots… but… even so… I shouldn't keep you from doing what makes you happy, even if I don't always agree with it. So… if it makes you happy… you should do it. Go drink and have your fun. If you've finished your work, it's fine. If it's what makes you happy, go do it. Okay?"

A pause followed before he replied quietly, "I know you didn't mean it. I do… but… but what if I'm happy when you're with me? Telling me to do what's right?"

It was a lie—it had to be, but she somehow smiled just a little anyways, "I, um… I guess… I just have to stick around… huh?"

Ezio waited only a moment before he shifted, causing her head to fall more on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She considered resisting, but she was too tired and wanted this—this proximity. This false hope. So she let it happen and kept her eyes closed as she felt him bury his face into her hair, breathing slowly and deeply.

"Please come back… Can we just forget this happened? I don't want to lose you, too."

Her heart stung, but this time not with pain. Her hope flickered again, though not as strong as before. It was enough, though.

"Yeah… we can forget it," she replied, almost at a whisper, and she felt him relax. A moment later she added, "…I don't want to get up, though. I'm not sure I can right now."

"I can carry you," he chuckled.

"…Piggyback ride."

He laughed, "I can do that."

Ezio released her then, but only to maneuver himself so he was crouched low in front of her. Catherine breathed in deeply as she eased up—her legs were a bit wobbly—and then wrapped her arms around his neck and put her legs over his. After a quick wrap of his arms around her own thighs, he stood up, grunting as he steadied himself with the new weight. He moved forward through the dark night with a steady pace despite her on his back. It was quiet; neither saying anything. Even with his constant movement she managed to close her eyes, and her exhaustion made her even more tired than she thought. Sleep took over, and she forgot the world as Ezio brought her all the way back to their safe house. She missed his setting her in the bed gently, making sure everything was safe and set, and then crawling in beside her. She was unaware of his touch as he wrapped an arm around her, as if afraid she might vanish again, and his whispered apologies as he, too, managed to drift away to his dreams.

**-O-**

**May 3, 1479**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

Catherine rolled her neck, getting a much need pop as she perched on the rooftops looming above the marketplace. She'd been sitting there for a while now, watching and waiting. That was, perhaps, the worst part about waiting for a target. Bernardo Baroncelli was here, though, and it was just a matter of waiting for him to show up. Their mercenary contact had said they'd _for sure_ spotted him here. So now they had taken up splitting the city in half—her the east, Ezio the west. He would most likely have the easiest time finding the man with his Vision, so she expected to hear shouting soon enough. She, on the other hand, was doing what she could from her spot after having taken care of some guards. She made sure to give them proper rights, but then deposited the bodies elsewhere while she took post.

At the moment, she was watching the markets since most people on the east side flocked there. That, and it was fairly open where she was, so she could watch to the north and south well enough. She also had tabs on some thieves mulling about, each of which she'd given a "keep-an-eye-out" signal and gotten an "OK" back. Things were all set, so it left the wait. As usual.

If there was anything bad about being an assassin, it was that they did a lot of waiting.

_'Too bad you can't just speed up time,' _Catherine mused, pulling her Clock from her pocket to roll it around a bit. As useful as this thing was, it was starting to lose its appeal. She was even doubting it could get her home.

Rolling her shoulders, the redhead returned her Clock to her pocket and went back to watching. Down below she spotted a group of mercenaries mulling about as they were supposed to, always at the ready to help when needed. She noted the various patrons move here and there, inspecting the food and cloth to be had. There were covered parts here and there where wooden structures had been set up with yet more products. It was nowhere near as grand as the market in _Firenze_, but it would do. There were also guards—two decent groups that could cause trouble. The mercenaries could handle them, though, so now she needed her target. Where was he? It was frustrating how cowards knew how to hide so well, but surely he couldn't stay cooped up forever?

Suddenly—a whistle. Followed by a sharp chirp.

Catherine was alert at once, settling into a crouch and pulling her hood up. She peered over, locating the source, and found a thief giving her a signal—a closed first and a pointing of the hand towards the north. She looked, and, to her surprise, a flash of bright red amongst darker and glimmering armor. Two guards and one target. She recognized him at once. He was the pudgy man from the attack on the Medici—the other man who had attacked Lorenzo's brother and killed him. He was one of the ones that her Clock had kept her from attacking. A flicker of uncertainty passed through her; would the Clock stop her again?

_'Don't worry about that. No hesitation. You've been learning how to control it, so control it. Don't let it stop you,' _she quickly told herself, and, spotting a hay cart, took a leap of faith. As usual, she didn't see how it was a practical way of doing things, and had to bite her tongue to keep from grunting aloud when she hit. She waited patiently for a few moments before peering through the hay to see if it was clear. The mercenaries were close by and made a quick motion: she was good. Not wasting a moment, she pulled herself from the wooden cart and slipped between them, obscuring herself some. They knew the drill. She kept her eyes locked on the target, waiting for the right moment as she made a plan.

"Never in one place for long… Only… Only how to sleep… when to sleep… where to sleep," she heard him mumbling aloud as he went by. "Not safe. Not with _him_ out there. Assassin always watching."

_'Jeez, no one ever remembers me,' _she mused a bit wryly while making note of the guards. Not heavily armed and looking bored, if not annoyed, but Bernardo was mentioning something about having paid handsomely for them with coin, so they stayed for that. Typical, but also an advantage. If they only stayed for coin, then sending an impressive force might break them or at least make it easier to get them away.

"We'll meet when it's time," she heard the man say as he paused briefly, gaze shifting this way and that as he picked at his hands. They looked bloody and worn, and she could see old stains on the rings he had on his fat fingers. He was scared, but he was talking, which could mean he would talk more when she got to him. She needed him alone, though; needed him to feel he had no help and no way out. "And I'll leave this place… Free… in time… in time… Wait! What is that!?"

He looked right where she was and it took everything in her power not to flinch as she kept still, pretending to be looking elsewhere. The other mercenaries like-wise did the same. She swore the man might run, but then he turned and shook his head.

"I… I saw something… just… just another mercenary come to _spy_ on me," he hissed, but it did little to hide his fear. He went on then, circling around the place. He wouldn't be for long, though—he was too scared, although she still wasn't sure why he had come out. That didn't matter, though; this was an opportunity she couldn't miss out on.

"Can you distract the guards? I need to get him alone to interrogate," Catherine asked quietly.

The head of the group glanced to the guards around, "Hang on. Let me signal the other group."

He paused to make a bird whistle. Not far off, another group heard, looked up, nodded, and got the others ready. The mercenary tuned towards her.

"We're good. We can distract his guards—he may run, though. You ready?"

"I am. Safety and peace, brothers," she replied, and they repeated the mantra before moving out. She waited a bit before walking along a similar path, though stayed back to watch and not be noticed. Then again, Bernardo didn't seem to know who _she_ was, which was useful. He apparently was not going to expect a woman, so that was something.

For now, though, she watched the scene unfold: the two group of mercenaries converged towards the target. Shouts of contempt and challenge were given. The guards on Bernardo scoffed at the challenge and called forth their own. The target was worried and shouting for them to stop, but it was done; the two forces converged and the man in red was vulnerable. He back-stepped away from the violence, eyes darting this way and that. The denizen were leaving the area, making him even more vulnerable, but also allowing her to be seen more easily. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and so she began to slink her way through the crowd. She used their brief large numbers to get closer, keeping one bit of her mind on the fighting—just in case—and the other on the man. Briefly, she made a note that the Clock did not stop her. No, it was quiet, and seemingly satisfied with her work as she came closer and closer until—his eyes found hers.

"No—you—but you're not-but no… no, no I know you! You were there! You're with the Assassin! No! Help! The Assassins are here!" the man wailed, but it was no use. His guards were occupied, and so he turned and ran, tail between his legs.

She raced after.

It wasn't a long chase. He was too pudgy of a man to get far, and his clothes slowed him down as much as his lack of endurance. His fear made him stumble and trip more than once, and she only let him get as far as he did to avoid trouble. Once she was in a more secluded spot she pounced, sprinting forward suddenly, unsheathing her hidden blade, and shoving it into his back—right into the lung to give him the slow death. She tackled him to the ground and pinned him there. He screamed until she slammed her hand onto his mouth, silencing him. He wriggled, though, whimpering at the pain. A part of her was disgusted by the sight. At the very least he could try and pretend to not be a pathetic whelp after all he'd done.

"Your time has come Bernardo Baroncelli. At least face it with dignity," she told him and slowly removed her glove. To her relief, his cries did end, and there appeared a slight calm in his eyes. There was still fear, but he knew now—he knew he was done for.

"I knew you would come… I only thought it would be the other—the boy," he spoke weakly, coughing as blood filled his lungs.

"It was inevitable; you could not be allowed to continue, and neither can your cohorts… Where is Jacopo de Pazzi?"

He made a weak chuckle, "So you can do to him what you have done to me?"

"Death is before you… you have the chance to clear your conscience of your wrong doing before your time is up," she pressed, hoping it would get their answers. When he did not answer right away, she thought she had failed. Perhaps he was not a total coward; perhaps he did have some sense of loyalty.

"So be it," he sighed, gaze going towards the sky as he coughed up more blood. "We gather… at the church…. When a meeting… when… called."

"When are they called?" she asked, but the last breath left him, and the man went limp, eyes unmoving as blood pooled around him. Catherine sighed, but released her hold and reached up to close his eyelids as best she could. "At least you showed some remorse in the end. Rest in peace knowing you might yet make up for the deaths you caused with this information."

Her work done, Catherine turned, and sprinted back towards the market. She could still hear the fighting, although it had died down. She winced at the sight of a slain mercenary and others hurt. Most of the guards were down, so she made the call to retreat and threw a few knives to help. Her brothers fended off the last of their attackers, and then they made their escape. Shouts and alarms rang out, but they were already racing through alleyways towards the exits. They were close to the southern gate, thankfully, and it was easy enough to make it through with most the guards having headed to the market. From there they split up, the mercenaries heading eastward while she continued south towards the safe house they would be using tonight. Ezio would know—their plan always involved going to the safe house after a kill, so he would come once he heard the alarms.

She didn't dare stop, although she did slow from a fast jog to a walk, figuring she would look less suspicious to any patrols walking by. She lamented the blood on her shirt and hidden blade glove, but that was always a casualty of the work. She would just need to wash it, which was easy enough.

_'Well, that went easily enough, and now we know where to scout for the others more often—at night, if the other men weren't lying,' _the redhead mused as she ventured near the small farmhouse, thankfully with a small pond so she could wash her gear. It was owned by a retired mercenary who worked small crops and do some leather work. Their place of stay was in the barn with his work horse, which was fine, even with the smell. First, though, she did the signal knock on the door to let the man know she was there and then headed for the barn. She retrieved a bucket from inside before she ventured to the pond, filled it with water, and then returned, heading into the back part that was a little hard to find if you weren't looking carefully. There, she stripped her armor and slipped off her undershirt, though kept her vest on—didn't want to accidentally give Ezio a show.

She worked slowly and methodically; using it as a sort of meditation as she thought back on things. Mostly, she wanted to make sure she did it right. Had she shown the proper respect? Had she made the right decision? They had killed many of the enemy, but at the cost of one of their own. In terms of numbers, it was worth it, but for them it was a brother lost. She scrubbed harder, telling herself there was nothing that could be done, and it was true. People died every day in war, and it was only their training and caution that kept her and Ezio alive for so long.

"So. Looks like you were successful," a familiar voice called, as if having spoken of the devil himself. She chuckled as she paused in her efforts, looking to him as he came and sat beside her on the small bench.

"Yeah. Found him at the market. Extremely skittish, but the mercenaries provided a distraction so I could get him away and get information," she explained before working out the blood again. "He said he and the others would meet at the church for meetings."

The young man hummed, rubbing his chin, "Then we will need to double the watch at night there. We haven't been as thorough before, but now…"

"We'll find the others—two left... Oh, and we lost a mercenary today. I wasn't sure which one, and we had to pull out before more guards came. I'm hoping we can retrieve him later tonight once things settle down."

"I'll send word and try to get him myself. You're alright, though?" he inquired, looking to the blood-soaked water.

She nodded, "Yeah. It's all from Bernardo. He wasn't a fighter. It was kind of… pitiful, really. I mean, he did give me the info to clear his conscience, so I guess that's something, but… jeez… he could have at least had some dignity."

"Not everyone is as strong as we are," Ezio mused, to which she hummed in reply. A quiet passed over them, and Catherine recalled how that had been happening a lot lately.

It was all mostly business talk or updates on reports, and then quiet. Ever since the night of their argument, it had been awkward. Yet, neither was mad at the other, nor held a grudge or anything. Her feelings had been tempered, though; she kept them refined and held back. She didn't need to feel that way again, but she could never be truly mad with him. In fact, she felt _bad_ about it. She knew Ezio had been making a point _not_ to drink or see the courtesans over the past few days, and while that did make her a little happy to know he did it for her, she also knew he did it because he felt guilty. He was afraid she was mad when she had said even worse things. He told her things were fine, but she felt just as much guilt about it. How could he could he honestly forgive her for saying _that_? She didn't deserve his forgiveness, she knew.

"Are you… sure you're alright? Fully?" he asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked to him, brow raised. He smiled a little sheepishly. "That is… I know you're _physically_, but… I don't think I ever asked how you're handling things—taking lives. You always seem alright, but…"

She smiled back, "Don't worry. I'm fine… and hey, don't give me that look. I'm fine. Or, well, okay, I don't mean for it to sound so… crass or what not, but… I am. I'm okay with it. I know I'm taking a life. Bernardo had chosen the wrong in his life and deserved to die—I know he did—but taking a life is taking a life. With guards I sometimes regret it a little and sometimes I wonder if they had a wife and child or something, and how we've essentially destroyed that, but… then I also think of how… if they killed _us_… and who we'd all leave behind… and it's just… I have to force myself to not worry about it. I can't regret it, or I can't do what I have to. I just have to accept this is the way things are. Something like that."

"…Huh… I admit… that's… a good way to think of it… I think I do the same—in my own way. Only, I think of my mother and sister… and Father and my brothers. I tell myself I do it for them, and that helps. Some of those I kill I do regret, and I tell myself what I do—what I intend to do by killing them—is worth it. That the good we'll do is worth it. I find that helps," he replied, looking down at his hidden blade.

"That's a good way, I think," Catherine hummed, setting her shirt out to dry now that she was done washing it. "We just can't allow ourselves to ever forget why we do it, or we're no better than those we fight against. And we have to give them their rights whenever we can—like Mario said. I think that is enough."

"Indeed… makes me glad he knocked that into us—literally," Ezio snickered and she joined him as she worked on her gauntlet. That went quickly, though, as did the return of the silence. Her partner sighed softly as he seemed at a loss of more things to say. She honestly hated the quiet, especially knowing the cause of this one. He was trying to be so careful. Even at night he was; not as teasing or flirty, and he made sure to keep a space between them as they slept.

So, what to do about it?

There was only one thing she could really think to.

Sighing softly, Catherine set her gauntlet down once the blood was done, and leaned over to let her head fall on his shoulder. She felt him flinch with surprise, and grinned a little at that.

"Just so you know… I'm not mad at you. I promise. I'm not."

He waited a moment before chuckled, "Was I _that_ obvious?"

"Just a little… but seriously. I'm not mad. I know what happened was… a little… crazy, but… it's okay. I'm not mad still or anything. What happened, happened, so let's not… y'know, be weird about it. I'd rather us be how we were before."

"…I do, too," he laughed lightly, wrapping an arm around her. "I think we can get back to it. I'm not mad, either, to be honest. It helps knowing you won't stab me in the middle of the night now, too."

"Oh my God—I would not do that! If anything, I was mad you'd do the same," she guffawed, shoving him away with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes. He laughed some more, giving a stupid grin.

"I don't know—you've threatened me plenty of times. I, however, would never do such a thing to a lady."

"Well, it's not like I'd actually do it, anyways, either," she huffed, and immediately regretted it as his brow waggled. She held up a finger to jab it at him. "_But_ I just might start if you get any ideas."

He held up his hands quickly in defense, "I was just joking! I wouldn't dream of it! Although you'll have to forgive me if I admire."

Catherine watched his eyes glance down, and she did the same. She flushed some, noting her vest fit a bit more snugly when she didn't have her undershirt, and came down a bit lower. She huffed and threw her wet undershirt at him. He grinned underneath it anyways.

"Go hang that somewhere else to get it dry. And you're on dinner duty."

He stood up, bowing as he held her shirt over his arm, "As you command, my Lady."

Catherine kept up her huff as he spun on his heel and went to find such a spot, but it faded after a moment. She watched him go, and it wasn't long before she allowed a smile onto her face. It might take a little while to get back to just how they'd been, and even then it might not be all the same, but it was enough, and she was content with that.

* * *

_But hold me fast, Hold me fast_  
_'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer_  
_And hold me fast, Hold me fast_  
_'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer_

* * *

**39 **– _End_

* * *

**TMWolf: **_And that's a wrap! So. Yeah. Some drama this chapter. It's about time, right? Honestly. But, ah, I hope no one takes sides here, because, truthfully, there is no right side in their "argument". Both said stupid stuff and were upset, but they're okay now. Oh, and some might think maybe I make Ezio goof off a little here, maybe too much... well, I would like to take in consideration that he's ONLY twenty years old. He's still young and a bit brash and still learning. The game, I think, had him transition so fast, and obviously he did witness things that matured him, but he's still a bit of a rascal. Catherine, ironically, brings that out of him. She does work where he would normally have to do it, so he now has _time _to goof off or indulge a little. Without Catherine there, he wouldn't be able to. She is an _enabler _for him without realizing it, thus why he may be a bit more prone to doing non-serious stuff. Like-wise, Catherine lacks the drive to have more fun where she could. She's _too _focused and serious and needs to relax, which Ezio does help her do from time to time, although she considers it him teasing her or what not. He still loosens her up, though, and gives her the comfort she needs, although doesn't always show she needs. And she definitely needs someone to bring out the fun to balance her more somber side._

_But yeah. So there's a little explanation for that. Don't worry, though, Ezio is going to get more serious as time goes on, but right now he's still growing up some. Guys always mature slower than girls after all ;) Likewise, Catherine will loosen up... although maybe not as fast. Girls are more stubborn than guys sometimes ;D_

_Anyways, that's basically it. Two more targets to go!_


	41. All the Small Things

**TMWolf: **_Aaaand I almost forgot it's update time! Whoops! :'D Luckily I remembered, so here it is! This is really more of a filler chapter and actually focuses on a _different _pair of people... with Catherine there to show us ;) Important stuff still comes up-mostly on how the city is growing, but, ultimately, this a filler, but one with some importance, I think. Kinda. Not AS important as some, but, y'know. Anyways!_

_As usual, how the characters act is based off my interpretation of the canon material._

_For reviews... uff I just love hearing what you guys think so much! I really appreciate all you have to say and ask or point out! It means a lot :) Please feel free to drop any words or questions, and I'll be happy to answer! For the guest review:_

_**Pull the lever: **Oh my goodness, thank-you sooooo much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I hope you'll continue to do so! And yes, they do fight like a married couple, ha haha._

_Alrighty, so this chapter is from Blink 182 - All the Small Things! Nothing lyric-wise to associate, but the title fit haha_

_Now, enjoy! :'D_

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**40 **– _All The Small Things_

* * *

**September 5, 1479**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine yawned as she read over reports in Mario's office, leaning forward so she was slouched on his desk. Various other papers were spread about along with books and maps, marked up and annotated here and there. The letter she held would soon join the rest—yet another summary of nothing of value happening as it had been since the Bernardo man had been killed. Oh, there had been some excitement: all the Pazzi in a flurry; rumor of another target on the move; Jacopo spotted here or there; increased patrols; some fights, and on and on. It was nothing substantial and nothing really honestly worth being written about, but Mario liked his reports no matter what, and the Thieves and Courtesans were paid for their work, so why not? At least their allies did do their duty for more than just monetary value—that was something, she supposed.

Still, it was boring, and the letter not of much use, so the redhead set it in the pile she had deemed "waste of parchment and ink" and returned to the map before her. It was the newest one drawn up for the city and the surrounding area, and a great deal of notes and scrawling were on it. That was to be expected, though, being that there were plans to cut down some surrounding woods to make way for yet more farmland and even a winery. The idea had been mentioned to Claudia some time ago, but it was only now finally coming about after all the farmlands had been improved along with the final renovations to the city including armaments for the walls. It was nothing fancy just yet, but there were to be better weapons, better armor, and more guards supplied. There was hope for cannons soon, too, although those were a bit more costly and they hadn't found the right architect for them yet.

Thus, a means of making more money and happier people came in the form of wine. There was a decided lack of _good_ drink in the city when it came down to it, so the vineyard was a promising conquest. Claudia had managed to snag a group of growers that had been on the move, and once they got a look of the land and agreed, things could get going. If all went well, part of the northern woods would be cleared for acres to allow for the crops to grow, and then a proper establishment to make the wine would be built on the same land. It was definitely a smart venture, and it didn't get in the way of their other crops, which were flourishing throughout the year, although with fall in and winter not far behind, they would have to rely more on meat and their stores of produce. _Monteriggioni_ was in good shape, though; in part for their work against the enemy, but mostly because of Claudia's proclivity for the art of running the city itself. Her father would have been proud.

Everyone else certainly appreciated it. Catherine knew she did. The people were happier than they'd ever been despite the Pazzi gaining power in _San Gimignano_, and there was quite a populace now, not including their allies. More men had joined the mercenaries, and La Volpe and Gita's people were growing in numbers and strength as well. Beyond that, the city itself was far grander with the _Villa_ standing as a hallmark of that improvement. Its once dour state was all but a memory with its walls and gardens now well taken care of. New servants had been hired and was fully staffed. The armory was slowly being filled, and the halls above were now adorned with a good chunk of artworks—some provided by Leonardo, in fact. The library had seen a refurbishing and more books had been added. All of which was all thanks to the young Auditore, who was proving quite the lioness.

Catherine yawned again and glanced at the window. It was only a bit past sunrise now, but she had been up a good deal earlier. There was some work to do be done in the city, so she and Ezio had done their training before dawn, and then he headed off to help with some construction along with Mario. She lamented somewhat that they didn't train as much usual, but they did get plenty of exercise—the other mercenaries included—from doing physical labor, and they their missions. She would be out there with them if she could, but Claudia had asked for her help. She hadn't specified what, but it involved other mercenaries, so the redhead assumed it might have to do with the maps for the vineyard.

"Guess I should go see if she's up… and get breakfast," she mused just as her belly rumbled. Stretching as she stood, she set the map down and ventured from the study. She slipped through the downstairs gallery, admiring a few pieces as she went, then into a main hallway towards the back. The dining room would be devoid of the food just yet, as Maria and Claudia would be asleep and were the only other ones who actually ate the food in here unless they had important guests, which was rare. Thus, she found her way to the kitchen which was thick with the scent of wonderful foods. As always, Catherine considered Annetta a God-send and she had begun to pass her skills to other servants and those they sent further off in their land so other establishments were supplied with good, cooked food. The _Villa_, of course, always had the best.

"Aneeeetttaaaa," she called out, leaning against a counter. The woman would never be far from her cooking despite having help, and, sure enough, she appeared with a raised brow and a slightly coy smile as she wiped her hands on her cloth.

"You know, you can always wait at the table like a civilized young lady," she hummed right back as she grabbed a plate and bowl.

The redhead grinned, "That would be too easy. Besides, you know you like it when I disobey decorum. Admit it."

"It does amuse me how a twenty-two year old woman acts younger than little Claudia."

"Hey now, she is eighteen—a full-grown woman."

"Certainly more-so than you," Annetta smirked ever-so-slightly as she finished putting food onto the redhead's plate and handed it to her.

"Well, it helps she doesn't have the bad influence of her brother. He keeps me so young," she sighed dramatically before scarfing down a few bites, much to Annetta's annoyance. She waved her spoon in Catherine's general direction, and the younger woman obeyed, slowing down despite her hungry fervor.

"_Oh_?" the maid mused, brow raised even higher.

Catherine paused on her words, and huffed, "_Not_ what I meant. When did you get so cheeky?"

"Hard not to with all the talk about you two."

"Wait… what talk? Annetta?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes, but the woman just smiled. "Annetta! What talk? What are they saying? Whose ass do I need to kick?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just word of you two sharing beds together and all. Leaves little room to wonder much else."

Catherine groaned, "Oh my Gooooooooood noooooooooo. That's not even—ugh, oh my God that's ridiculous. Oh God, please tell me Ezio isn't in on it."

"Not that I know of, although it is probably safe to say he is 'in on it', as you put it. Has anyone told you that you say things strangely sometimes?"

"You're not the first," the redhead snickered before taking a few more bites. "Right, well, just so you know—theirs is _nothing_ between us. We're just friends. It's just easier to have our arrangements how we do. But there's nothing going on. You can ask the courtesans he visits."

"I see," Annetta hummed, looking hardly convinced.

The redhead glared, but kept eating while the maid continued to work on her meal, making the final touches. Catherine let it go, knowing acting more defensive would just make it seem like there _was_ something between her and Ezio when there wasn't. A part of her had once hoped for it, and maybe still did a little, but it was just a fantasy. A small dream that had long-since been forced into the far reaches of her mind except in these moments. She just had to push it back, though; remind herself she wasn't what he had wanted. He maybe didn't mean he didn't want her around when he said the words, but he didn't _want_ her—not how she wanted him. Besides, although he had toned down his "leisure" activities, he did still go out to visit the ladies, or at least made some stupid grin when she tried to make light of it. Of course she couldn't _prove_ he was spending time with them still, but she didn't dare allow herself to think he would forgo it for her—that he had affections for her. Not anymore.

"Well, thank-you for the food, Annetta. It was amazing as always. Did you add cheese to the eggs, by the way? I thought they tasted a bit different than usual—in the good way, of course," she grinned as she shoved the meddlesome thoughts aside and put the plate into the sink.

"Actually, I did. You were right—it does taste better with cheese put into it. I never would have thought of it. Where did you…?"

"Experimenting. Anyways, like I said: amazing as always. I'm going to see what Claudia wants me to do before we have to head out. She still hasn't really said what's up—er, what will be going on. So I'll probably see you around dinner."

"Alright then. Be safe, and keep little Claudia safe, too."

Catherine scoffed, "Please, she can handle herself. She whips all the men into shape. But don't worry—I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thank-you," Annetta chuckled back, and then the redhead was off.

It was a quick journey back into the main hallway where servants were already working to keep the floors and walls clean, and lighting the various candles. She nodded or waved to some as she went by, skirting to the right wing of the house. Briefly, she saw Maria walking through the gallery on the top floor. The redhead paused, a little surprised, although the older woman had been up and about a lot more these days. It was still as heartwarming as ever to watch her walk by slowly, admiring each and every painting. The air about her was so much lighter, although every once in a while she would grow somber and quiet. Annetta had done so much with her, and bringing feathers and talking when she or Ezio could was also a help. Personally, Catherine liked to think it was because the young man was growing up into someone so good—someone like his father, and the pride it gave Maria turned into strength for her.

Catherine blinked with surprise when the woman suddenly turned, catching her eyes, and smiled as she nodded. The redhead smiled right back and waved as she gave a soft "good morning", and then let the matriarch return to her admiring. Sometimes she found it almost impossible the woman had recovered, but she grew stronger every day. It was definitely something to be happy for, and so Catherine made her way to Claudia's room with a lighter step and a hopeful outlook for the day.

"Claudia?" she called out, knocking. There was some muffled sounds and grumbles for a bit before the door opened, revealing the young woman, although rather disheveled. Her hair was loose, tumbling all the way down past her shoulders, and she was still in her pajamas with an usually tired look about her. She peered blearily at Catherine, rubbed at her face, and leaned against the door before adjusting her white sleeping gown.

"Yes?" she sighed tiredly, and glared a moment later when the redhead struggled not to laugh. "I was up late—you can cease your giggling. Unlike _some_ people, I do actual work."

"Hey now, I do work, too… just not what you're used to. And I came to ask what the plans for today are? Need me to prep everything?"

Claudia sighed again, closing her eyes to think, and then yawned as she stood up straighter, "It is within walking distance, but a horse will be useful to carry our things—just some packs with food and such. Bring… Ottavio. He knows the land well. Perhaps some others that might be free. Just a small amount—maybe two or three. The area is fairly large, and we will need to look at it on foot. The, ah… um… the… wine man—I forgot his name—he will be coming, too. I think. Meet us there, maybe. I forgot. Annetta knows and will give us the food. Just… go get the men and horse or whatever else we might need."

"Sure thing, 'boss'… just remember to wake up," the redhead snickered. "Oh, and get dressed. Although, I'm sure the men wouldn't mind what you're wearing now."

Claudia gave Catherine a look before reaching down to grasp a slipper and smack her with it. The redhead laughed as she held up her hands to avoid more strikes, the younger woman huffing.

"I see my brother's influence has gotten to you. I can only be so thankful he is out working the fields, else I would be out of shoes within the hour," she mused coolly, returning her slipper to her foot.

"Come on—you know I had to! Besides, you're now practically 'old' by marrying age. Eighteen!" the redhead snickered back, but only got a snort.

"Then _you_ are _ancient_. If anyone should be ashamed not to be married and barren of children it is _you_. Now, are you quite done pretending to be Ezio?"

Catherine smirked, "I think so. Seriously, though—go get dressed. I'll get everything ready and get that Captain you're so sweet on going."

"I do believe our definitions of 'sweet' differ a great deal. I am only bringing the oaf along because he is of use. Otherwise, I would leave him. He is nothing but a troublesome fool."

"Uh-huh. I'll see you in a bit, Claudia," Catherine laughed lightly, ignoring the younger woman's huff, and began her trek outside. It was time to get to work.

**-O-**

"You know, you can ride the horse. No one is going to blame you."

"I am fine."

Catherine had to work hard to withhold a grin as she watched Claudia trudge along the road through the hills, her boots gathering a decent amount of dirt and some mud thanks to the rains from two days prior that had made the road wet. Her boots and the other mercenaries' shoes were much the same, but they knew the woman was the only one really bothered by it. However, she was stubborn, and the apparent loathing she had for Ottavio made it so she refused any help or advice he ever gave her—such as offering the horse. Again.

Personally, the redhead found it hilarious. From the moment they had met up at the gates to leave, the two had already begun to bicker. Claudia did her best to ignore him; snub him; lift her head up, but he only found it amusing and poked and prodded at her in his subtle, but rather obvious way. She rebuffed him with sharp retorts and made a point to out-do whatever "concerns" he had for her. First it had simply been to avoid dirtying her dress. She had assured it was fine and hardly touching the ground. Second had been a mention of her shoes getting muddy, but she insisted they were old and rarely worn anyways, so it was fine. Third he tried to tell her it was a long walk and she should ride the horse. Claudia only told him it wasn't all that far, and she had walked all the way _Firenze _to _Monteriggioni_—this was nothing in comparison.

Ottavio, at the very least, was enjoying it, and the other two men were having a hoot, too. They kept their snickering to themselves, though, knowing it was better to avoid Claudia's wrath. Catherine, however, allowed herself to laugh and give the younger woman looks here and there. Claudia returned each with a glare and mentions of how the redhead was going to trip if she didn't look ahead. It was almost too much, and Ottavio knew how to push her right to the edge of her sanity before pulling back and becoming a "civilized" person, as the younger woman had put it.

"You know Annetta might get upset if you come back dirty," Ottavio mused from his spot on Claudia's left, the horse's reigns in his hands.

She flicked her gaze towards him, "Annetta knows what this trip entails—but that is none of your concern."

"Ah, but I do not wish to incur the wrath of the head maid by bringing back her little Claudia in poor shape. She does cook our food, after all."

"And who has helped provide for it, mm? Who has made it so you eat _real_ meat and not porridge every night?" Claudia snapped, waving a hand at him. "Enough. We should be approaching the location soon enough. Maybe then you can actually make yourself _useful_ and scout it as Uncle Mario said you could. Personally, I doubt it, but it would be unwise to not consider my Uncle's advice."

"Aw, Claudia, that was pretty harsh. You don't have to be that mean. He _is_ just trying to be nice," Catherine hummed, nudging the young woman gently.

"He is trying to _infuriate_ me, and he is succeeding. You would not know the torture he inflicts upon me—_you_ are not here enduring it on a daily basis," was the curt reply, to which the redhead only sighed.

"Don't mind it, Catherine. I do like to tease her for the fun of it—that can't be denied… although I do have good intentions, my lady," the mercenary smiled down at the young woman beside him. She spared him a slightly longer look than usual before huffing and looking ahead.

"Kindly grant me some kindness and _stop_ then. Besides, we are here. There is my associate I mentioned."

The young woman gestured as they came through the trees, and, sure enough, there was a man standing with his horse not far away on the side of the road. He was an older gentleman, although still younger than Mario, wearing the clothes that one would expect from a farmer or one of his occupation. He looked cheerful enough, though, and waved as they approached. He even bowed to Claudia and Catherine once they stopped.

"Greetings. I'm glad you arrived safely," he smiled charmingly through his somewhat scraggily beard.

"Thank-you—the same to you. Did you have to wait long?" the young Auditore inquired, but the man shook his head as he clicked for his horse to move.

"Maybe a quarter of an hour. Got a quick look of things. It looks like it'll be good land, although we may need to clear more trees if this proves a good deal."

"Well, I guess we best make sure it's good land then. It's proven fertile so far," Ottavio mused as he gazed out at the open area, making his mental notes.

"How do you want to do the scouting? Or how are we even doing this? We need uh…" Catherine paused to look to the man, realizing she didn't even know his name.

"Ercole."

"Right. We need Ercole to check it, don't we?"

"Not necessarily. The soil I'm after mostly needs a few things… generally it's the kind around these kinds of rocks," the man spoke up, reaching into his pack to pull out the item in question. Catherine recognized the type at once, even after it having been years since she'd studied for her major. "You can usually find rocks like these in the area, so if you find those, the soil is the right type. The other thing we need is to make sure there's enough soil below—not too many rocks in the spot we want."

"Here, get a look of it. There's some of it around the city, too, if you ever noticed," the redhead explained as she passed it around. "We can use our swords to check for rocks, I guess…"

"We can do that definitely. And I know the rock. You two get a good look and then we'll spread out. My Lady, you will remain here-," Ottavio began as he pulled out the map in his shirt. However, he was caught off as the young woman in question snatched the paper and shot him a look.

"I did not join you out here simple to sit and watch the horses. It is my duty to ensure the success of our home, and I will do my part in ensuring this land is useful and proper," she told him firmly as she unrolled the parchment.

"My Lady, I must insist you remain here rather than go off—especially when part of our search takes us through the trees. It is one thing to walk through them with an escort, but we will be out on our own. You could be hurt," the Captain rumbled with a serious tone, reaching for the map.

She pulled further from his reach, "I am well aware, and am capable of taking care of myself. I have done just fine for the past three years, and another day will not change that. Now, we can both stand here and argue for an hour until you agree with me, or we can skip this foolishness and get on our way. We only have so much daylight, you know."

"Claudia," Catherine spoke up, touching her shoulder, and trying to figure out what the young woman meant by her words—the way in which she said them; the slight frown she saw as they were spoken. "We know you're plenty capable, but this could be _dangerous_. There might not be bandits out there, but there are animals and the ground may not be steady yet."

"Again, I am _aware_. I appreciate your concern, Catherine, but I will help, and I would greatly appreciate it if everyone would stop treating me as though I were a _child_," the young woman huffed, obviously not going to back down any time soon. The redhead sighed, and contemplated forcing Claudia to stay put, but she was just as, if not more, stubborn than her brother, and she would most likely go run off even if they told her no. It was one of those situations, and she didn't really want to have to get into an argument. Glancing over at Ottavio, he knew the same, and the other men were wearing their own expressions of exasperation. She was, after all, Mario's niece and the biggest reason the city was prospering. Having her hurt would _not _be fun.

Ottavio sighed, rubbing his face, "Alright, alright. Give me the map."

"You really shouldn't be stubborn about this," Catherine murmured to Claudia, but the woman kept her head high, refusing to be swayed. That, and she was playing the silent treatment game, which meant she was now mad at the redhead. "Ugh, I swear… you are worse than your brother."

Briefly, the redhead glanced around and noted the other men seemed a bit annoyed, although Ercole looked amused by it all. She didn't blame the mercenaries—they would all be trying to keep an eye out for the young woman now. Although the work today wasn't difficult, it would be made a slight pain to have to be concerned about the Lady Auditore. Granted, the terrain wasn't really treacherous, but the muddy slopes could cause some slips and there was still brush about. Annetta would be unhappy no matter how today went really; Claudia's attire would be ruined regardless.

"Alright, here. My Lady, you will scout this area," Ottavio explained, circling the area with his finger, and then moved to the horse to grab a pack, which he gave her. "Here is your food and water. We will scout either until we are done or until the sun is about three-fourths through the sky and meet back here. Is that understood?"

For once, Claudia did not make a biting comment back. Rather, she nodded, gave a simple "yes", pulled her pack strap over her shoulder, and then stayed put as the Captain began to hash out the rest of the areas. The other two men would take to the north-east, she, Ottavio, and Ercole to the north-west, and the north point was for their youngest member. Each were given a pack for food and drink, and after being reminded of the time yet again—and a repeat to be careful for a certain someone—they started off. It shouldn't take the whole time they needed to scout everything, but checking the soil could take a bit, and some of them would stop to eat and drink among other things, so there was no time to waste.

Catherine likened it to a field trip she had taken once—one she vaguely remembered in the time before she came here to Italy. That had been fairly fun despite the work she had to do while on it, although the work here was much easier. She found the rock easily enough; a schist of all things. She would never have known the soil the rock was found in could be useful, but apparently it was. Thankfully the actual earth was proving good; as she stabbed around she found few rocks to deal with, so that was beneficial. The feature seemed to go on with the trees, which meant they might be cut down to increase the fields should the vineyard prove a boon. For now, though, she kept up her search and walked the long hours. She stopped only to eat her lunch and guzzle her water, and continue to venture until she had done all she could and made her way back.

The air was thankfully cool in September, so she only had a minor sweat going, and she hadn't slipped in the mud so only her boots, gloves, and sword had dirt on them by the end of it. It made it easy to wipe away the dribbles on her brow as she came back to the horses, which were lazily eating grass. They weren't alone, either; Ercole and the other two mercenaries were there, and when she looked back Ottavio was not far behind. She peered further beyond him, but there was one missing. That shouldn't be, though; Claudia had searched the smallest area. She would have been back long before them. So why was she gone?

She frowned, "Where's Claudia?"

"She may be taking longer to get back… she _was_ wearing a dress," one of the mercenaries suggested with a shrug. Catherine supposed that was true, but a feeling in her gut said otherwise. She turned to Ottavio, whom raised a brow at her dour expression, but when he looked around and realized what she had, his face fell, too.

"Lady Auditore is not back… and no one has seen her," he stated plainly, and the redhead nodded. He cursed softly, "I should have stopped her, damn it all! Fool I am! Damn! Alright, you two up! Re-scout your areas! Search for the Lady Auditore!"

"On it. Shout when you find her, and bring a horse if you can—she may be hurt! Ercole, stay here with them, please," Catherine added, glancing to their guest, whom nodded.

No more was said as they took off into the landscape, shouting for the young woman. Catherine only heard echoes as she went, racing through the area. Not for the first time—and certainly not the last—she loathed her lack of Eagle Vision. She would have easily been able to find Claudia otherwise instead of this racing around, praying she would come by the young woman. So much could have happened. What if there were still bandits and they had gotten her? What if it was some wild beast that had attacked her? What if she had slipped and hit her head? What if she was hurt badly? What if she was unconscious? There were too many uncertainties and no young woman to be found, and that terrified her.

What would she tell Ezio? What would she tell Annetta? Mario? Maria? How could she tell them she had let Claudia go out on her own just because she was stubborn? She should have known better. She should have pressed or done more or—or _something_! And now the young woman was missing. The redhead's heart raced with anxiety as she sprinted through the trees, stopping only to shout and look around. There was nothing, though—no tracks after everyone had done all their tramping over it; no cloth torn; no pack; no nothing. It seemed so hopeless in their search that seemed to drag for hours, but could only be minutes. Who knew how long it had been for Claudia, though. Who knew how scared she must be; to be all alone and hurt and afraid!

Catherine had to stop to catch her breath after running as hard and as fast for as long as she did. She was near the edge of the area she scouted next to Claudia's, and she had gone as far as she could, yet found nothing. Curses spewed from her mouth as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to think of where the young woman could be and how she was going to explain this to everyone.

It was put on hold, though, when, suddenly—a voice. Two voices, actually. She could barely hear them, but there they were, and one was feminine. Relief flooded through her, and the redhead didn't waste a second racing towards where they were coming from. She stopped herself at a tree line when she saw them: Ottavio with a rather muddy Claudia. She looked mostly unharmed until she saw a dirty spot on her forehead that looked swollen from even far off. No doubt she had fallen and hurt her head, but even that could not keep her from wearing a pout upon her face as the mercenary Captain carried her. He was grinning, though, and speaking gently, which, to Catherine's surprise, got only a snort from the young woman as she made some comment that brought forth a laugh from Ottavio.

"Claudia!" the redhead finally called out as she hurried over. The young woman smiled briefly, but then pouted once more.

"You may say it," she spoke plainly.

Catherine raised a brow, "Say what?"

"'I told you so'. The Captain said as much," she rumbled, and Ottavio laughed.

"I only said there were dangers to be had out here, and I _was_ right about that. Slipped and bumped your head and hurt your ankle, my Lady. Luckily you were waking when I called for you."

"Indeed… and I shall repay the kindness by keeping Annetta from throttling you," Claudia replied, though without her usual fire. She looked tired, too, and Catherine did not blame her.

Instead, she smiled, and reached to grasp the young woman's hand gently, "We're just glad you're safe."

"As am I… and I owe you my thanks, Captain."

"It is my pleasure, my Lady… although I must ask next time that you just allow me to carry you when it's obvious you're hurt rather than insist otherwise. It makes it much easier," the man smirked, earning himself a smack to the chest.

"That Auditore stubbornness," Catherine chuckled, and was again surprised when Claudia looked down rather than grow huffy.

"I am just… accustomed to doing things myself—being on my own."

The redhead opened her mouth to reply in jest, but closed it as she made note of something. The young woman had made a similar comment before—about being alone—and now it seemed so much more. It was enough that she reached out to stop Ottavio, whom shifted slightly to better hold the young lady and keep her off her smarting ankle.

"Claudia… what's wrong?" she began, looking her right in the eye. When the young woman appeared as though she would deny it, the redhead held up her hand. "Claudia, please. What's going on? Why are you insisting you're alone? You have all the help in the world in the city… everyone is there with you and gives you support."

The young woman did not answer right away, pursing her lip; no doubt trying to make some excuse. In the end, though, she sighed and wrapped her arms around her body as best she could.

"_You_ are not there, though. Nor is Ezio. Annetta is there, and that is something… and Mother is returning to us… but… you are my dear friend and you are never there, and my brother—the only one I have left—is gone, too. You are always off doing your work, and I never see you. I am only left to fret and worry, and I feel… alone."

"Oh, Claudia…" Catherine sighed softly, and even Ottavio bore a sympathetic look on his face.

"Come now, my Lady… you know you have all of us, too. Am I not enough for you?" he chuckled, trying to cheer her up. Her lip flicked upwards, but not enough.

"Claudia… I'm… I'm sorry… I didn't… we… we've been so caught up fighting the Templars, we just…"

The young woman shook her head, "It is alright. I understand… really, I do. Your work is important, and I know it is selfish. I just… I miss him. I miss you, too… and I admit I am… envious. You have such freedom. You are both so strong and do so much… and I know Ezio cares and visits when he can, but… there is this distance between us. _You_ are much closer to him than I have ever been, and I wish… ugh, just… do not mind me. I do not know what I mean."

"No, no, no—it's okay. I just never knew... you always seemed so caught up with the city and you've just grown so much I didn't notice and… well…"

"I have been keeping her busy with my pestering," Ottavio chuckled, again making a small attempt. This time, she did smile a bit more as she let out a second sigh.

"I do so partially to not feel so… how I have been. The city is something to do, and I have found I am good at it… but… I still feel… apart. I thought perhaps I could try today—to do what you do… but it seems I have failed miserably. I am not nearly as strong as you are…"

"I'm a different kind of strength, Claudia," Catherine smiled.

"I know… but look at me. I am a mess. I can barely take care of myself just 'scouting' out a field. It is no wonder Ezio still sees me as his baby sister; thinks he has to hide things from me; keep me safe…"

"He only means well, you know," the Captain hummed.

"I know… but…"

"Well… what if…" the redhead began, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "What if… Okay, and this may be… unusual, but what if I gave you some training? We could find a weapon that suits you?"

"Train… _me_? To use a weapon?" the young woman gasped, eyes wide.

"That's not a bad idea!" Ottavio laughed, nudging her some. "I know the perfect one, too—a dagger! Short, but very sharp!"

"Perfect indeed—perhaps I can cut your throat with it!" she snapped, jabbing a finger at him, much to the redhead's and his amusement.

Catherine hummed, "That's actually a good choice. You won't ever wear pants, so a dagger would be a good weapon to hide in your dress or sleeve. It's an easy weapon to use, too, and doesn't require a lot of movements. I could train you easy, and we can do it without Ezio knowing so you can surprise him one of these days."

"You would… really do such a thing?" Claudia inquired softly, and earned a nod in response. A smile appeared on her face as she nodded. "I would like that then."

"All in good time—first, you need to see about that pretty little head of yours and that swollen ankle, little lady," Ottavio rumbled as he began to move again. He grunted as the "little lady" smacked his chest.

"Just because you have rescued me does not give you the right to use such informal names for me, _Captain_," she hissed.

"You know, you have yet to thank me for finding you," he mused, grinning like an imp. A grumble could be heard, and he brought his head closer. "What was that? I could not hear, little lady."

"I said: go fall and break your leg, ass!" she hissed, folding her arms.

Catherine couldn't help busting out laughing, "Claudia, where did you learn such language?!"

"From _him_ and his goons. I told you I have to endure him constantly! All he does is pester me and try and prod at my nerves!" she huffed, glaring at the man. "And he succeeds! I would love nothing more than to clobber that smug grin off his face!"

"You enjoy it. Admit it. You love making all those retorts—you would ignore me otherwise, and I know you would because you ignore those you hate," Ottavio smirked.

The young woman flushed, "You would know nothing of it!"

"I know you are quite the demon with your tongue."

"Only because you are a mindless brute. It is a wonder why Mario keeps you as Captain."

"Because I have a sense of honor and like to help young ladies in distress?"

"Do not flatter yourself, mercenary. I owe you my thanks here, but do not expect I will grant you anymore kindness," she glared briefly, but still pouted all the same.

Ottavio kept on grinning, "I would expect nothing less… although I would have hoped this at least proves I do have good intentions for you."

"I… I suppose… you do mean well. You are still an oaf, though. An annoying one. Worse than my brother."

"See? That wasn't not so hard. Maybe now you won't slit my throat while I sleep?"

"_That_ is still up for debate," Claudia hummed wryly, giving him a similar look.

"Well, then forgive me if I hope you get into trouble more often—I will need to earn many favors and thanks to save myself it seems."

"Do not count on it, Captain. I plan to become _more_ capable, not less."

"So it seems… and you know you don't have to be formal with me—you can just call me Ottavio like everyone else," the man chuckled.

"That depends—will you cease with your silly nicknames?" the young woman quipped coolly.

"I think I can accommodate that, my Lady."

She held her head high, "Very well. I suppose I will allow myself to utter your name every once in a while."

"I can settle for that," the man grinned, and after a moment Claudia let her head fall and look to the path ahead. A smile appeared ever-so-slightly on her face.

"Thank-you, Ottavio."

The man looked down at her with surprise, but then grinned, "You're welcome… Claudia."

He kept walking then, and Catherine kept on right after, staying a few steps behind. In part, to grant the two privacy that no one might have expected they needed or had wanted. It was also hide the surprise and the wide grin that had pressed itself onto her face. Oh, there was something happening here, but she would keep it to herself. For now. No, she would allow this to grow and become something better. What, exactly, she wasn't sure, but it was good for them both, and she hoped it would stay that way.

For now, though, they would just focus on getting back. That, and finding a way to avoid the wrath of a certain maid, mercenary Commander, and protective older brother.

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**40 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's chapter 40! Was anyone surprised by the other pair I mentioned? Well, if ya'll have brushed up on your AC knowledge about Claudia... well, I'm sure you can guess where things are going ;) Anyways, various things have started this chapter. Sorry to all the Catzio shippers, but nothing much for them this time around! Don't worry, next chapter is back on track with our two Assassins-getting that ball rolling :) Still, hope you enjoyed this little filler and building on the lovely Lady Auditore, ha ha._


	42. Another One Bites the Dust

**TMWolf: **_And back at it! Chapter 41! Time to get back into the swing of things, but also start a little something new... for Claudia, anyways, ha ha. Some feels this chapter, though, so get ready :p_

_As usual, how I write the canon characters is based on my interpretation of the canon._

_Also, thanks so much for the reviews! I always appreciate them-really, I do! I love to hear what ya'll think or if I have any mistakes or what not, so don't be afraid to drop a comment or whatever you feel like! I'll answer all of them :)_

_For this chapter, we have Queen's - Another One Bites the Dust. Nothing related lyric wise, but just way too perfect xD_

_Now onto the story!_

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**41 – **_Another One Bites the Dust_

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**November 15, 1479**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Here's another way you can hold it—maybe you'll like it better," Catherine explained as she took the thin, stiletto dagger from Claudia's hands and turned it so the blade was facing downward. The young woman gripped it tight and then looked to the redhead for instructions. Her teacher lifted her arm up so that her own blade faced outward some, and the motion was copied. The redhead grinned. "Right. You want to keep your stance like this when you hold it so you have a defense, but can lash out, too. This style really works best for downward motions, although that might actually work in your favor since you'll probably be shorter than most of your attackers. You can stab their legs or stomach or something, which will help you escape them if need be."

Claudia listened closely, nodding as she kept her face serious. She looked to her knife, slicing it down just as she'd been told at some invisible enemy. It was much easier to do in the pants and shirt she wore—a _huge_ surprise for the redhead when she'd arrived for the lesson—although it could be done well enough in her dresses. However, the young Auditore had insisted her garbs remained unsullied by dirt and sweat, so Annetta had provided her with some men's' wear to use instead. They worked well enough, and the young lady had built up a decent sweat.

Of course, the most surprising part of all was just the fact Claudia _had_ come in the first place about a few weeks ago to start working on her skills. Catherine would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought Claudia would make good on her request to learn how to fight with a dagger. Oh, the young woman had been excited at the initial mentioning, but it had taken about a week for her ankle to heal well enough to move around the city without issue again, and then she'd been fairly busy. The memory had been pushed to the side by then, so the redhead had stared almost stupidly when Claudia had come up to her late one evening, demanding they train tomorrow morning—after Ezio had gone to do his work in the fields. She hated to admit she didn't expect the young Auditore to keep at it for the next few weeks, but she had done wonderfully. Oh, she was still a novice and made plenty of mistakes, but she was determined and willing, and it showed.

They'd started with a few other typed of daggers—a thicker blade, and then a medium one. They'd even gone for a hunting type, but in the end the stiletto Claudia wielded now was the best. It was light and flexible enough for her, and could be hidden within her garb. From there they had worked on technique, and although she was not as quick as her brother to pick up on things, she kept to it. Of course, it wasn't just learning how to stab with a blade. Catherine made sure the young woman was put through some of the works. Oh, it was nothing like what the other mercenaries went through, but she was made to jog and limber up, and even work on her arm strength so she could wield with more movement and power. Claudia had been reluctant at first, but ultimately saw the logic of it and did as told—just as long as her brother and the other men didn't find out. She had a "reputation" to keep, after all. Catherine supposed she understood, but still found it a little silly.

It was what it was, though, and as long as Claudia showed improvement, she would continue with it. Mario had set that standard, anyways, when they had asked him about it, and he allowed them to use the gardens to keep it "secret". Her Uncle had been just as surprised as she and Ottavio when told about the venture, but he was more than happy to comply. The only real requirement was that she have someone to keep an eye on things since he was busy with the men. Catherine would have considered Ezio, but because Claudia wanted it kept secret he was thrown out. As such, she found her only other option was none other than the Captain. He, thankfully, had happily agreed, and although Claudia had made a huff, she ultimately agreed, although made note _she_ was still charge of things, so he best not be a "bother". The Captain was more than willing—with a smirk, of course.

Even now he smirked, watching them work from a bench in the circular courtyard of the garden. Every once in a while he provided advice or pointers for when Catherine's experience ran dry or was not as concise as it should have been. The young Auditore always made some point or quick remark in reply, but it seemed to be more in jest than any real malice like before. It was almost playful, and certainly had the redhead raising brows and occasionally smirking until the young woman glared so fiercely she ended up grinning cheekily. It was just too fun.

"You can mostly likely hide it in your sleeve, or I know some courtesans have an even thinner one they keep in their hair—use it as a pin," Ottavio spoke up from his spot, motioning to the blade and then to the back of his hair.

Claudia snorted, standing up straight and giving him a look, "You would know that."

"Of course. I am a proper man," he replied with a smirk that only widened at the light blush that came to her face. "That, and I'm the Captain. I've helped train the women in combat to defend themselves if need be at Ghita's request. It's not an easy occupation."

"No… I suppose it is not," the young woman hummed, looking to her stiletto. "I suppose… if there is something thinner I could use that. Or I am sure Annetta could do something—perhaps make a hidden pouch in my dresses."

Catherine nodded, "Sounds like something to ask for sure."

"But first you need to keep practicing—you're still a little sloppy," the Captain mused.

Claudia raised a brow, "Oh? Do tell, Captain."

Ottavio chuckled as he stood up and walked his way over. He gestured for her to get into stance and then to attack. The young woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously as the redhead backed off to give them room, but ultimately, she took his bait. She struck as instructed, aiming for his lower body, but found herself easily countered. Without much effort he grasped her wrist and tugged, forcing her to stumble quite a bit. It was only his other arm catching her around the front that kept her from falling. Her face went bright red as he helped her up, and her glare intensified. Ottavio only smirked again.

"See? You don't have your balance still, and you make your attacks obvious. Also, your arm is too tense for striking quickly with this toothpick," he mused wryly, twirling the weapon in his grip. Claudia pouted, embarrassed and her pride insulted—even if he was right. To be fair, she was a novice, so it was to be expected. Still; she was a prideful creature, so she huffed, and held out her hand.

"Which is exactly why I am _practicing_. You will have to forgive me, my dear Captain, if I am not perfect at it yet," she replied coolly. When he did not give her the dagger right away she lifted her brow, giving him a look. "May I have my weapon now?"

"Of course, my Lady," the Captain bowed his head politely as he placed the weapon into her hand. "You _are_ doing well, though. You will become quite impressive with it in no time—just as you do with all you apply yourself to, Claudia."

The young woman had opened her mouth to make some retort, but it was silenced as he kept going. Instead, her flush from before deepened and her huff got huffier, although far from annoyance or being upset. No, this was a very different kind, and Catherine couldn't help noticing it. She kept quiet, though, as Claudia wrapped her hands around the knife, eyes always on Ottavio's; never wavering. Her huff lightened some and eventually she looked away with her cheeks still a little pink.

"Yes… Well… Thank-you. You are… a good tutor… and you are right. I do need work, and I will improve with time. I thank-you for your advice as well. Catherine, you will make note of it, yes?" she inquired, looking to the redhead almost too quickly.

The redhead nodded, "Of course. Don't worry, though; you'll get it down soon enough and then it'll be second nature. So, for now, work on that. Go and use that tree over there. Try and pretend you're in a real fight."

"Alright," Claudia nodded, her face now stern with concentration as she made to the nearby three and did as she had been taught. She paused when more instructions were given by both Catherine and Ottavio, but otherwise she was left be to strike at the tree and make sure she was doing things correctly. She went at it with a good fervor, and it was only the arrival of Annetta that brought a pause to it. She carried a letter, which she passed to Ottavio, whom quickly read it.

"Catherine, here—good news," the Captain grinned, and the redhead mirrored the expression when she looked over the words.

Claudia narrowed her eyes curiously as she came over, wiping her sweat from her brow, "What is it? Isn't that the mark of the thieves?"

"Yeah, their scouts from _Toscana _have reported. Seems our target has finally showed himself. We originally thought he'd died back in May during the attack on the Medici, but it turns out he had been spirited away in all the confusion and a doppelganger used in his place," Catherine explained, frowning briefly before smiling. "Thankfully, the general populace doesn't know that, which actually helps us. He apparently doesn't leave the Abby, though… so it's going to be a little tough. Ezio and I will probably have to be there for a week or two before we get our moment."

"Well, I… suppose I should help prepare supplies for you then. It is the least I can do," the young Auditore smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. A memory came to Catherine and she touched Claudia's shoulder gently.

"It won't be long—promise… and I'll tell Ezio to come spend some time with you once we celebrate."

"I… no—no, you do not need to. His work is important, and he is helping the city. It is alright. Besides—I am busy with this, and I would rather him not find out and try and stop me," Claudia replied, reaching to touch the redhead's hand briefly before pulling back and then looking to Annetta. "I believe you and I have work to do… and I have a request for some… 'alterations' for my dresses."

"Oh? Well, let us not delay then, my Lady," the head servant smiled, brow raised, and fell right in line behind the young Auditore as they headed back to the _Villa_. Catherine sighed as she watched them go, rubbing the back of her head. Ottavio stood beside her, also watching them. The redhead looked to him, noting he seemed to feel a bit of how she did about it, too.

"Do you think I should still tell Ezio to take a break from work and spend time with his sister?" she inquired, getting a glance from him.

He let out a deep breath of air, "… Truthfully? No. Not yet, anyways… It would be better if Ezio came on his own."

"God, I know… but he really is so focused on our work. We're _so_ close to being done. Stefano da Bagnone is the last before Jacopo, and we just need to know _where_ they all go when they have their meeting. Then we'll be done. And… well, I guess we'll come home. The vineyard is getting started, so we'll have a lot to do."

"Just focus on getting your targets—the future comes later," Ottavio mused a little firmly.

She grinned slightly, "Right. Sorry. It's just… it's been a long fight. Maybe we can get some real normalcy—not have to worry about Templars hounding us and our friends and family, you know?"

"It's a nice thought," the Captain rumbled, glancing one last time at Claudia before she disappeared into the _Vila_. "But this kind of war… it's not one that ends. You either fight until you can't… or until the enemy gets you. Peace is only fleeting, so savor it when you can. Anyways, good luck out there—call on us when you need the help."

He clapped her on the shoulder and left her then, heading back towards the front. Catherine watched him go, an odd feeling settling in her gut. She didn't like it, but she knew he was right. She hated to know it, but it was true. Even if they did kill Jacopo, he wasn't the only evil out there—would they fight the rest? Or would they stop? Could they stop now that they were in so deep?

She supposed those were questions for another day, and so, pushing them to the back of her mind, she headed out of the garden to find Ezio and share the news.

**-O-**

**November 28, 1479**

**Toscana, Italy (south east corner)**

It was a rather nice construct, the church. Abbey. Monastery. _Monte Oliveto Maggiore_—whatever the people wished to call it. Either way, it was fairly tall—at least three stories at one part, and two the rest. It was well made and well taken care of. The grass and gardens around it were tended to daily, and the dirt path was kept clean and trodden down by daily traffic from the monks. The stone walls were in good shape despite their age, although there were footholds and spots to grasp that allowed for easy enough climbing. A stone wall lined the edges of the area as well, although stairs granted access to that. There were two stalls stationed on either long side of the church for horses, although really they were used for their work. A mercenary was posted to both, acting as the hired hand for the monks, but in truth it was their own. It worked well to get the information they needed on their target, although the amount of help it provided was debatable.

It wasn't that the information wasn't _good_, but their target was simply proving to be rather insufferable.

He was sly, for one. He had already escaped death during the attack on Lorenzo ages ago, and he had remained hidden all this time. He rarely left the inside of the Abbey, and even when he did it was neigh impossible to make him out amongst all the black robes—the very same which he wore. It was only Ezio's Eagle Vision that had allowed him to spot the man inside the courtyard one of the times they scouted from the rooftops. He remained below the covered walkway, though, always beside other monks, and he never went on the outside path. He was smart and cautious, too. He knew the Assassins were after him, and he had apparently learned from the mistakes of the other conspirators. That wasn't to say he wasn't as arrogant or frightened or potentially foolish as them, but he was able to reign in his emotions far more tightly to think clearly. _That_ made him dangerous, and all the more elusive.

So, they had waited. And watched.

Waited more.

Watched more.

For nearly a full two weeks they had waited to learn his pattern, and there was thankfully not much to it—only that he was difficult to reach and make out without Ezio around. They knew, though, that he emerged around some time past mid-day to walk and speak with a few monks, although he seemed to favor one in particular. He discussed whatever he wished, walking all about with the others, and then he would return inside after perhaps an hour or two. It did not leave a large window, and the abbey was full of other monks. Some even possessed swords in the absence of any real guards, which would also pose a problem.

Needless to say, it was going to be a bit difficult, but they were determined.

"So. All ready?" Ezio asked as he came to stand beside Catherine, whom checked the straps on her hidden blade bracers. They were tight, but snug, and so she stood up to brush herself off and nod.

"As I'll ever be. I don't like having to kill the monks… even if they do have swords. Are we sure they're Pazzi guards in disguise?" she asked, frowning slightly.

The young man rubbed the back of his neck, "We _can't _be sure. I mean… I _assume _they are, as most priests or monks do not carry weapons. Our informants have said the same…"

"Well, it might explain the lack of them _outside_… besides their weakening power and all," the redhead rumbled, recalling how their venture here had gone rather easily.

Indeed, the presence of the Pazzi had dwindled dramatically since the death of their last target. It seemed the cause that had bound them was no longer enough, and guards were beginning to see no point. That, or the coffers that once had goaded them were no longer being filled. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter; the Pazzi were trickling out of _Toscana_, and their allies were stepping in. Oh, there were always some guards left, and she suspected there always would be, but it was certainly not as bad as before. Safe houses felt all the more secure, and they didn't worry nearly as much. Of course they never really let their guard down, but the fear was not so great anymore.

"We will just have to do what we can to avoid all unnecessary deaths. I'm sure we can manage. Now, here—your cloak. We don't exactly blend in with our gear amongst monks," Ezio replied, handing her the black garb. Once she took it with a chuckle he pulled his own on over his gear. It made him look a little bulky and odd, but it would do. It had worked the last few days, after all.

"No we don't," she added briefly as she set hers in place, making sure to keep it much closer—to hide her more feminine form. She kept her hood lower, too, and did what she could to keep her hair back. "I take it we're not going on the roofs today."

"No—not if we want to kill him. We'll have to sneak through one of the side entrances. But first we need to talk to the mercenary there. He said he had something for us, remember?"

She paused then snapped her fingers, "Oh, right! He said Mario had sent something—a new tool for us to use. I wonder what it is…?"

"Well, no use guessing. We'll just have to find out. And we should hurry—we have maybe an hour before he'll return inside," Ezio mused, noting the light of the day outside. Catherine nodded, and they headed out.

Their safe house wasn't too far away from the monastery, which sat in a large open space in the southeast corner of the area. Even so, they took horses to travel most the way. They allowed themselves the luxury of the path so long as it was clear of danger, and then dropped the horses off at a farm house with a stable barely a minute walk from the target's location. There, they made their way quietly, heads bowed as if monks in prayer, and approached the stall where a mercenary was waiting.

"Ah! There you are. I barely recognized you both in your get up," the man chuckled. "I take it you're ready to make your strike?"

"As we'll ever be," Ezio grinned back, holding his arms up to "show off" their garbs.

Catherine spared a smile, "You said Mario sent something for us?"

"Yes. Here, take these. You can use them to create a distraction," the man stated, pulling out a packet, which he gave to them. Inside were two circular balls, dark in color, and easily concealed in one hand or in a pocket. When a brow was raised, the mercenary went on. "They're smoke bombs—throw it at the ground hard and it'll explode and you'll be cloaked. Just remember to hold your breath, or you'll end up coughing like everyone around you."

"Where has Uncle been hiding these?" Ezio chuckled as he placed them into a pouch on his waste; Catherine did the same.

"It's been in the works, so to speak. He's been trying to refine it, anyways, and he thinks it will come in handy based on your reports. Consider it a part of your arsenal now."

"…You know, these would have come in handy a _lot_ earlier. We need to get onto Mario when we get back," the redhead mused wryly as she looked to her companion.

He grinned right back, "Sounds like something to do when we celebrate—that way he's a little drunk."

"And less likely to bite us," she added with a laugh. Their mercenary companion gave out his own chuckles before calming and gesturing towards the building with his head.

"Better hurry if you hope to celebrate, though. Good luck, and don't worry; I'll keep the horses prepped for your escape."

"Got it. Thanks," Catherine replied for them both before they turned and headed towards the nearest set of stairs. Softly, and with her head low, she inquired, "So how do we want to do this? We know the 'guards' are all around the exits, so once we do the deed I don't think we'll get out as easily as we get in, and if we want to get him we can't go in by the roofs."

"Hmm… that is true… perhaps if we use the smoke bombs to get out?" he mused back.

"We have two… so I guess it could work, but that won't cover every exit… hmm… what if," she began, biting her lip. Ezio looked to her and gave a small nudge to continue. "Well, I mean… what if we kill him, one of us sets off the bomb, and we go by roof? We can use another if they spot us when we land and take off?"

"That could work… actually, that may be our best bet. To be honest, I wasn't sure you should go in with me—you still stand out and the others might realize you're a woman," the young man stated, bringing a frown to Catherine's face, but she knew he was right. The hoods didn't come as far down as their normal ones, so she would be noticed. Maybe not right away, but eventually.

"So where am I going?"

He pointed up, "To the roof—go where we were spying. I'll infiltrate, locate and then kill him, and then throw the bomb. You be there in case I need some help, and then save your bomb for when we get down should we need it. That, and you can cover me and see more. Use that one call—the bird whistle you do—when you're in place."

"That's not bad. Yeah, let's do that. Right, so wait outside until I get up and do the whistle. Don't act before, alright? No itchy fingers," she smirked slightly, and he nodded with a chuckle.

"I will do my best. Now, go. And be safe. You know the patrol patterns."

"Don't worry, I will. You be safe, too. I'll see you soon," Catherine told him, reaching to squeeze his hand gently. Oh, she had the utmost faith in him—she knew he could do it, but she had to tell him all the same. It was just what they did, and she wanted to. The small things were just so much more precious now, and she knew—deep down—that, despite everything, she did care for him more than she should. Despite the hurt from before, and her pushing her feelings away, they still existed, and might never leave. That, and no one knew in this work of theirs when they would die. So she savored those moments when she could.

"Until then," Ezio replied, returning the squeeze, and then they pulled apart.

Catherine headed towards the spot they used to climb up, discarding her robe along the way. The location was a bit obscure, and had the best grips. The patrols were easy enough to deal with, too, and it only took a bit of waiting for a small group of armed monks to pass before she scurried across the open space and climbed as quickly as she could. She knew she had plenty of time before she might be spotted, but she wasn't taking any chances. Not to mention their target could deviate at any time. They had to act fast.

Grunting, the redhead pulled herself onto the orange tiles and squinted as the setting sunlight briefly blinding her. She lifted a hand as she ventured to the lower part as quietly as she could, glad for the talking amongst the normal monks to mask what footsteps she had. She settled herself low in the shadow of the upper place, always keeping an eye on the monks in case someone saw or heard. Once set, eyes roving the area for their target, she tentatively pursed her lips and made the whistle. It was short and quick; made to mimic a bird. Ezio would know it, and so she waited quietly, almost not even breathing, as she watched.

There.

She saw a monk bulkier than the rest enter. She strained her ears to listen to things, to see if she could make anything out. She noted Ezio was following someone specifically, albeit going about it slowly. He kept within a group of monks, acting as if he were in prayer. There was too much talk below to make anything out and without the Vision she could not make out the target in the sea of black, so she kept her focus on following her companion. Seconds seemed all too precious, and this time she did hold her breath as she moved a little faster. Her heart skipped a beat when he went out of sight.

An eternal moment later, a scream of terror rang out. Then another, and another. Shouts. Angered ones. Blades drawn. A loud hiss as smoke exploded, engulfing the area. It didn't quite reach her as she moved to the edge, and so she was able to watch as monks bent over, coughing and waving, trying to rid the smoke from their lungs. Her gaze shot downward as a hand suddenly latched onto the tile by her feet. She grabbed it at once and hauled Ezio over. Blood was stained on one glove and his sleeve as he shed his cloak. He nodded with affirmation, but no words were shared as they raced up to the higher roof and then to the far edge of the scene. They descended down quickly, not caring if they were seen. Shouts sounded, but Catherine threw a smoke bomb in their direction. More shouts of surprise echoed, their distraction working as they raced for the stable. Their comrade had their horses ready, and they took them without hesitation. Spurring them with fierce kicks, they raced off into the setting sun, which was all the more red for the enemy tonight.

Their flight didn't stop until they had reached far into the countryside. There they found the nearest safe house—a small mill on a river—and took refuge there. It was only then they were allowed some respite and took up resting within the small shack, where a makeshift bed of hay had been left for them. The owners promised proper blankets and pillow later along with a meal, but for now that was good enough as they sat and relaxed.

"So—all went well, you're not hurt?" Catherine inquired as she took his gloved hand to inspect the stains.

He shook his head, "It's all Stefano's. I was able to get him—stabbed him in the lower back. He was able to confess just before he perished."

"Good. Here, take it and your shirt off so we can start cleaning. I'll fetch water and then you can tell me what happened," she nodded.

"You know, I would take them off for you whenever you like—you don't have to wait for a bloodstain," he smirked with a playful wink. The redhead only gave him a look in return, which made him laugh. He began to undo his gear in the next moment, so she headed out after snatching up a bucket, and then made her way to the well nearby. It was easy enough to get the water, and once she returned he had the material off. As usual, she only gave his chest the smallest of glances—she hated how well built he had become over the last few years—and took his shirt. He thankfully pulled his vest back over; apparently he'd learned how to be decent.

"So. What did he say?" she mused as she began to soak the shirt, working the blood out.

He used some of the water to start cleaning his blade, "Nothing too clear, but he said they—all of them—would 'meet in the shadows of the Roman Gods'. I admit I'm not entirely sure what it means yet."

"Hmm… something to do with the Roman Gods… aren't there ancient ruins around here? Roman-styled ones?" she replied, glancing up at him. The young man paused, making a thoughtful sounds, and then returned to his work.

"I think it's a theatre—not far from the city. That could be it. I don't recall any others around here."

"That's probably it then… but, wait," Catherine frowned, setting his shirt down, "Bernardo said they met in front of the church—the _Santa Maria Assunta_—when a meeting is called…"

Ezio frowned, too, "Hmm… that… does make it a bit difficult… or… hmm… maybe we're overthinking it. The meeting is in the ruins, but perhaps they meet first at the church to then head to the ruins?"

"That… makes sense, actually. And they meet at night… hmm… well, just to be safe, I guess we could have our scouts watch both areas?"

"And perhaps one of us should be at either… although I hope we'll know when the man is in the city."

"Well, it's hard for them to get here without us knowing at some point, and I think the Spaniard would be noticed easily enough… but… hmm… I guess we'll need to spend more time here while we keep an eye on things. Jacopo may not show so easy after everything… unless he's not too smart, but it didn't seem like it. Not to mention there could be _other _Templars we don't know about," Catherine rumbled as she finished with his shirt and rung it out as best she could.

Ezio hummed thoughtfully as he took the shirt and hung it over a beam to dry, "Good point… we just may be out here more… I suppose that's not so bad—we can't do much work in the city in winter for the fields, and the buildings need almost no repairs anymore. We'd probably find more to do out here."

"Probably," the redhead nodded, though briefly recalled the young Auditore waiting back home. For a moment, she considered saying something—to urge the young man to stay home, but she hesitated. Would Claudia want her to hint at her loneliness? Probably not. "We'll have to keep in shape, though—find some way to keep training."

"With the Pazzi as weak as they are, it shouldn't be too hard. There are safe houses further out, away from prying eyes, and we can always take it up in the woods. We can easily free run in the city—just have to avoid the archers," Ezio noted as he tested his blade briefly and then set it aside. Catherine only nodded as she leaned back, folding her hands in her lap as she sighed softly. He copied the motion, though against a beam supporting the shack and let his knees lift to rest his arms on them. He regarded her for a moment before he, too, sighed. "So… we're almost done."

"It looks like it… we just have Jacopo, and, if we're lucky… the Spaniard will be there. If we can at least get him, too… then your father, Federico, Petruccio… even if there are others there, you'll have avenged them."

"Indeed… I'll have given them peace…"

Catherine glanced up, hearing the pause. It was almost like uncertainty.

"Do you… know what you'll do after?" she tried, watching him carefully.

He looked to her, then down at his chest where his necklace hung, letting out a deep breath, "I'm not sure, to be honest. I suppose return to _Monteriggioni_, and make something of myself there. Claudia has, and Mother is doing well. It… It's our home now. And I suppose you will be able to go home, too."

"Huh?" she blinked, puzzled as he motioned to where she kept her Clock.

"Aren't you supposed to go home once you've helped me? If we kill the Spaniard and Jacopo… then… it is done, isn't it? You will have done what you were brought to do… and you will go home."

"Oh… um… I… I guess… that's true," Catherine muttered, looking down. She should have been elated. She should have been jumping for joy. She could be going home soon! It could be only a matter of days or months and she could return to her mother in their family castle in Scotland. She could return to her life in the future with all her things and her family and move on with her life. She could get back to normal.

Yet—did she _want_ to?

She wasn't so sure anymore.

"Catherine?" Ezio asked softly, causing her head to jerk up, eyes wide. She blinked away her surprise quickly and gave a quick, fake smile.

"Sorry—got caught up in my thoughts. I was just… I, ah… I don't even know what I'll do, I guess."

"You mean when you go back?"

"I, uh… yeah, I guess if I do… I mean… it's been three years… I'm not sure I know how… and then again, who knows if it'll even work, huh? I bet that 'god' guy lied to me," she laughed a bit pitifully.

"Well, you always have a place here—if that happens," Ezio replied, bringing a slight flush to her face. "We will always be happy to have you here. I admit… I—well, we all would be devastated for you to leave."

Her blush deepened, "I… I, ah… I'd miss you all a lot, too. To be honest… I sometimes I don't want to go back. Is… is that… is that… _bad_?"

"…No… no, I don't think so," he replied after a few moment, giving her a small, warm smile.

"I… thanks. I think," she mumbled softly, bringing her legs up so she could wrap her arms around them and nestle her chin into her knees. She sighed softly. "Now I'm nervous. About the end coming, I mean."

"…Me, too. I think I just… never thought it would come," Ezio rumbled, head falling back as he stared at the ceiling. "It seems unreal. We're almost done… and yet, I wonder if it really is."

Catherine watched him for a moment, recalling Ottavio's words not so long ago, ".…I think that's something that we'll just have to tackle when we get to it… just focus on the present for now, you know?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, looking back down to shake his head. "We'll worry about the future later. For now… Or, well, I guess we can hope our future meal will be good, and that our rest tonight will be, too."

She laughed lightly, "Yeah, I think it's okay to worry about that. If I remember right, this family makes a really good rabbit stew and their bread is pretty good, too."

"Rabbit stew? Oh, God, that sounds amazing. I'm so tired of rations," he groaned, patting his stomach. "Please tell me it will be ready soon."

"Oh, calm down you big baby. Annetta has spoiled you—made you fat."

"Hey! I am _not_ fat," he huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I am quite the specimen, thank-you."

"Is that was the courtesans tell you? You know they're _paid_ to say that, right?" she snorted, folding her arms right back.

"I never have to pay," he smirked, brow waggling.

"It's called pity. They just want you to feel better about yourself."

"Their moans and screams of pleasure say otherwise."

"You know women fake their orgasms all the time, right?"

"I assure you—these do not."

"And I'm supposed to take your word on it?"

"I cooould always _show_ you, kitty-'Cat."

"And I could always show you what it's like to have a boot shoved up your ass."

"Must you always be so cruel to me?"

"Must you always forget your place, little pup?"

"'Little pup'? I am hardly little."

"Is that what the courtesans told you, too?"

"And all the other ladies in _Monteriggioni_."

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to be impressed?"

"No, you're supposed to be enticed."

"Sorry, but I'm a woman of higher standards—I don't go for riff raff."

"That's just because you don't know how good bad can be."

Catherine couldn't take it anymore—she suddenly started to laugh after having been grinning like a damned fool for the last minute or so. Ezio didn't last much longer, and they ended up laughing for a good, long while together; enough so their lungs hurt afterwards. The redhead even had to wipe tears from her face as she calmed down and her companion shook his head at the absurdity of it.

"Well, this isn't quite the way I'm used to celebrating killing a Templar, but it's not so bad—I think we could do a repeat," she snickered, tilting her head slightly.

He made a few more chuckled, "Indeed—I almost forgot how good the banter is. I admit… I may miss that the most if you go."

"Then I guess I'll have to stay—can't let you go on thinking you're a smooth talker. Have to protect all those naïve young women from your 'bad'."

"Hmm… I suppose I wouldn't mind that… so long as you kept you around," Ezio grinned right back, and despite herself, Catherine flushed. She huffed slightly and rolled her eyes, much to his bemusement.

"Don't be weird," she pouted, and was readying another retort when a knock came. It was their dinner, and they were all too happy to take it—rabbit stew with bread and wine. They were even happier to down quite a bit of it before Ezio suddenly raised his wooden cup, the wine sloshing slightly. She raised a brow while he grinned.

"To the end of the Pazzi and the Spaniard… and to whatever the hell comes next."

Catherine smiled, picking up her own cup, and tapped it to his.

"May we be there to see it together."

* * *

**41 – **_End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And there we are! Chapter 41 done, and next one... well, the end of the Pazzi is coming, and it may be the end of many other things, too! Or will it be new beginnings? Unfortunately, you'll just have to keep reading to find out! ;)_

_Anyways, hope the feels at the end there was good enough for ya'll, and don't worry: more to come! Promise! I swear! I swear this pairing WILL happen... at some point xD Also, let's all give props to Claudia for keeping her word, and for those that recall, in Brotherhood Claudia knew how to handle a dagger well enough to kill off multiple soldiers. I always wondered where she'd learned that, so I decided to make a reason. Cookies to all who had caught on by now, though ;)_

_Anyways, until next update!_


	43. The Beginning is the End

**TMWolf: **_Alrighty, it's update time! Wasn't sure I'd update after a rough week, but I'm all about punctuality, so here we are! Right. So. Time to get a move on and finally end the Pazzi! It's time, folks, and things are going to get another move on._

_As usual, how canon characters act are based upon my interpretation of the canon material._

_Thank-you so much for the reviews, everyone! They really help make my day, so, please, feel free to drop a comment, question, concern, critique, or whatever you'd like and I'll be happy to reply :)_

_Now... this chapter is from Smashing Pumpkins - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning (and a mouthful/tongue twister! xD)_

_So, let's get the show on the road! Enjoy!_

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**42 **– _The Beginning is the End is the Beginning_

* * *

**January 5, 1480**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

The night was cold. The winter from the end of the year had continued into the new one, bringing with it even colder breezes and an occasional snowfall. Tonight was thankfully free of a white blanket, but Catherine still pulled her cloak closer and kept her arms tight to her body. Besides her, Ezio was much the same as he pressed closer to her, sharing what body heat they could as they waited. Every so often they might stand and stretch, but they were keeping still for the most part. She only wished she had more of the soup they'd eaten an hour ago—it had been perfectly warm and soothed her in the safe house. Unfortunately, they could not afford to miss out on their vigil, so here they were; sitting together; waiting for their target to arrive.

It had been a long time coming. For months now they'd waiting for news on Jacopo's movements while they spent their time in the countryside, doing what they could to help remove Pazzi influence, place in their own, and keep in shape. Every so often they had returned home—such as for Claudia's birthday a few days ago. It had been a great festive affair with much happiness to be had, but was cut short by the next day when they left again. Beyond the young woman's day of birth, there just wasn't much happening at home with the winter bringing things to a slower pace. There was less work and less crops, although shops, brothels, taverns, and such were kept busy. Mostly they stayed to get new supplies, equipment, or information, and take the time to relax. Despite the Pazzi no longer being all-powerful in _San Gimignano_, they could never be at total ease in a safe house, but in _Monteriggioni_ they no longer had to sleep with a knife under their pillow. It was home, and they were always sad to say farewell again and spend yet more weeks in _Toscana_, worried they may miss their target if they lost their diligence even for a moment.

Thus here they were, bracing against the cold of the winter as they hoped, at last, the elderly man would show himself. Their thieves had seen him—briefly—so they knew he was here, or had come here. They hoped he still was around, and they had to think it would be hard to leave completely unnoticed. Not to mention the words of the fellow conspirators had said the Templars would meet. When, they hadn't and still weren't sure, but they hoped soon. They were more than ready for things to be done so they could go home. Or, at least, Ezio was. Catherine had her own reservations—mostly for what lay in her pocket—but she was determined to go through with it. She had said she would, and she had been tasked with helping Ezio. If she tried to avoid going home by not doing so then who knew what could happen. The first time he had almost died—what if leaving would lead to the same fate? She couldn't bear the thought even if it meant she may never see him again, so here she was.

"I can feel you shaking—let me wrap my cloak around you," Ezio spoke up suddenly, pulling Catherine from her thoughts. Now that she noticed, she _was_ shaking, but she still shook her head.

"No, I'm fine—don't worry. I'll get up and stretch soon," she replied, but the young man only rolled his eyes and lifted his arm anyways. It was soon wrapped around her, pulling her to him, and he made it so he was able to grasp the other edge of his cloak, encompassing them both.

"Don't be stubborn. This will keep us warmer while we wait," he huffed, and she didn't complain. He was right—it was already warmer.

"Wish the old fart would show up already. Getting tired of my ass freezing every night," she grumbled as she grasped his cloak, too, and did better to seal it around them.

He chuckled, "I have to agree. This is worse than training and doing work in the city like we did last year."

"We were working and moving then—and had warm food and drink at our disposal. Here we're just sitting… ugh, this sucks."

"Just be patient…" he chuckled again, squeezing her shoulder. She made a mock-huff, but settled down to watch the crowds once more. Despite it being cold and at night, there were quite a few people out and about. Plenty of torches were lit, and just about everyone was bundled up. It made it easier to make them out; to see between them all. There were mostly men about, but women, too. She noted where their mercenaries were set in the courtyard, and in some spots she saw thieves. Courtesans frequented closer to the brothel, but she could just barely make out some in the cold—far braver than her with their skin somewhat bare. It was business, though, and they worked it.

No Jacopo, though, but they were patient. There was to be a late sermon tonight for whatever reason, and word was that the older man had been among those who entered. It was unusual—a deviation from his usual hiding away, never to be seen. They'd taken it as a sign, and so made sure to arrive earlier than any other days. It was their hope this meant he would go to meet the Spaniard at the roman ruins, and they also hoped to, perhaps, find other Templars. Whether or not they would be able to kill them or go after them further remained to be seen, but it was always good to know the enemy. Mario had asked for any information on new ones, too, so it was the least they could do. Then there was the unspoken notion that they very well could continue their fight. Maybe. No one was sure yet, but Catherine had a feeling Ezio might. She knew if she stayed she might, too. Possibly. It was so hard to say, so in the end nothing was said—just left to smolder and wait for when it _had_ to be answered instead.

"You're wandering off again—in your mind."

Catherine blinked, pulled from her thoughts, and looked to the young man, whom smirked slightly beneath his hood.

She sighed, "Just thinking."

"And just what has your interest caught so intimately?"

"Just… things. Dumb stuff," she shrugged, but Ezio leaned forward, looking towards her.

"_What_ 'dumb stuff'?"

"Ezio…"

"Catherine, you know I'm not going to stop asking even if you hit me. Just tell me. Besides, I have an idea what it is already."

She raised a brow, "Oh do you?"

"Yes. You're thinking about what's to come after tonight—if Jacopo shows," he replied, and she had opened her mouth to retort, but closed it. Damn. He was right. And he knew it. Chuckling, he looked back to the crowd and pulled her a little closer. "I know you worry about it. You toss and turn at night, and after we bring it up you get quiet. You won't really talk about it, though."

"Because there's no reason to. It's not like we can prepare for what might happen. All that's left is waiting to find out. I'm just… I hate not knowing," she rumbled, burying her head into her cloak.

"I know… and I hate not knowing what to say beyond well… hoping for the best," he mumbled, leaning his head against hers briefly—a form of comfort. She knew he meant it, too. They had talked about it many times before this; about what might happen. The thought of her going home and leaving it all. It frightened her, thinking she might leave—to have to never see them all again; to leave without a good-bye; to leave things unsaid or undone and unknown. She didn't _want_ to go, and it did frighten her how she felt no guilt for that anymore. Unfortunately, no words had comforted her, and although she knew she had this duty, she dreaded the day Jacopo showed, too.

"It's okay," she told him, but they both knew she didn't mean it.

There was nothing more to say, though, and so they sat silently, using each other for much needed warmth.

A slow, agonizing hour passed before anything happened. People came and went, but none were Jacopo, and the night only grew a little colder. Still, they had waited, and, as the yawns began, their vigil paid off. Movement came from the nearby church where the doors opened to give way to a flood of people. Catherine had not thought much of it, since this was not the first time they had witnessed such surges. However, when Ezio suddenly shifted, sitting upright and with eyes focused as they flashed—acting his Vision—the redhead knew something was different. She freed herself from his grip and crouched low as he watched the crowd. She strained her eyes and thought she saw their target, but wasn't sure. Her companion sensed her uncertainty, and pointed, gesturing to an older man at the back of the crowd.

"That's him," he spoke quietly.

"Got it… alright, we need to follow him like we planned… see if any other Templars come. The Spaniard if we're lucky," she whispered in reply, to which he nodded.

"Come—we'll follow on the roofs—just in case," Ezio urged, motioning her towards the ledge. "I'll be able to find him in the crowd, so don't worry."

Catherine only made a sound of confirmation before she moved, darting over the roofs to leap to the next. She paused there—Ezio right beside her—as she watched the old man move slowly through the crowd. He wore his usual green garbs of the Pazzi family, although a bit thicker and longer than before to combat the cold. He wore no cloak, allowing him to stand out a bit better. He turned out to not be alone, though; behind him trailed a guard in red, whose eyes scanned the area for enemies—for them. They were the only ones, though. No others followed him, and Ezio made no sign he had seen more targets. In fact, he scowled in annoyance.

"No others are coming… surely they would have been in the church or crowd… What's going on? Are they late?"

"I wouldn't think so, but they didn't see us and they don't know where we've been, so they can't think we're on to them," the redhead rumbled as she got moving again. Jacopo pressed forward with more purpose now; no doubt wanting to reach the meeting faster. That, or wishing to be done with the cold faster. Whatever the reason, they followed. She supposed it might not matter tonight whether or not he led them to more Templars. Either they would take the chance to let him live and wait a little longer, but at least know where he roosted, or he would die tonight and they would search and wait for the others yet again. That would be decided soon enough, but for now they focused on following him.

Jacopo went along one of the main roads of the city, venturing closer and closer to the southern gate. Catherine and Ezio remained on the rooftops, leaving the man completely unawares. Even his guard seemed unconcerned, although both had to have known the Assassins were after them. Whatever the case, it made things far easier for the two of them, coasting along the rooftops all the way to the city's exit. Jacopo and his guard slipped through the group of Pazzi keeping watch there, so they took to the wall instead. From there they watched the old man and his ally walk along the dirt path. It was harder to see him out there, but Ezio's Vision made it all too clear for him. They paused briefly as they let him go at his slow pace.

"I just recalled something," the young man said suddenly, though did not move his eyes from the old man. Catherine made a sound of acknowledgement, so he continued. "I found a letter of Jacopo's. I didn't think about it when I first read it… but it mentioned _Venezia_. I think he had plans there… or the Templars do."

"_Venezia_…? Do you think Jacopo may be trying to go there?"

"I don't know… but…"

"….you think maybe Templars from there will show? New targets?"

He paused, "Maybe… we'll see. Come on—we'll follow on foot from here."

Catherine frowned slightly, wondering what he was getting at, but kept quiet. Instead she climbed down the still broken city wall to the dirt path below, although they skirted off to the grass in the shadows. Jacopo and his guard remained unawares as they headed towards the entrance to the ruins—a stairway leading down the hillside to what remained of what undoubtedly had been a magnificent structure. Tonight, though, it would, perhaps, serve as a grave.

More guards waited at the entrance, and Catherine knew it meant there were others here, and not just Pazzi. This was a proper meeting, and they would find yet more enemies to add to their list. Ezio, too, thought the same; she could hear mumble, wondering how many were responsible for his father's death. Certainly it seemed the number would grow tonight. By how many, they couldn't say, but they were going to find out.

"I'll go to the other side—just in case they try to escape or provide back up," Catherine stated, touching his arm briefly. He nodded, and she circled around. Ezio kept to the center, avoiding the guards as he brought himself closer. The redhead, likewise, drew closer and closer, avoiding or taking down a guard as need be. The ancient theatre was fairly large, and had hallways that provided for good cover. She was grateful for it, as it kept her out of the line of sight of those at the very center—hidden from the large group of guards, Jacopo, and the other men in the center. One bore a dark cloak and stood with an air of what could be mistaken for royalty. She didn't doubt that it was Rodrigo. She did not recognize the other man pacing behind him, though, and the heavily armored guards and two lancers further back made her scowl. This would not be an easy kill, but they would have to make do somehow.

Briefly she glanced over to where Ezio was, using a pillar to conceal himself in the darkness; just out of reach of the various torchlights. With him safe and undetected, she watched Jacopo go to the man and prostrate himself; head bowed as he cowed and clasped his hands together for forgiveness.

"I am sorry, Master! I did all I could, but the Assassin proved too strong," he began, gaze flicking between the ground and the man before him.

Rodrigo looked at him sharply, voice even more so, "_Clearly_. Else the others would be here with you… to say nothing of the fact that _Firenze_ remains in Medici hands."

"It is Francesco's fault! His impatience made him reckless. I tried to be the voice of reason—."

The other man came forward suddenly, sneering, "More like the voice of cowardice."

"You are one to talk, Sir Barbarigo," Jacopo snapped back. "Had you sent us quality weapons, instead of this garbage you Venetians call ar—"

"_Enough!_"

Catherine narrowed her eyes as a pause followed Rodrigo's command. Barbarigo? She didn't recognize the name at all, but he was definitely from _Venezia_—just as Ezio feared. The enemy was there, but what were their plans? Had he been directly related to Giovanni's death, too? How far did the Templars reach?

"We put our faith in your family and you repay us with inaction and incompetence. Then when asked to account for your failure, you make excuses and insult us? How do you expect me to respond?" the Spaniard snarled, causing Jacopo to cower again.

"I do not know," the old man whimpered.

"It is alright," Rodrigo rumbled, patting the Pazzi's shoulder gently. "I do."

A flash of metal was the only warning as the Spaniard suddenly shoved a blade into Jacopo's torso. The old man gasped in pain as the blood began to spill despite grasping at the wound.

"No… please… do not…" he gasped, reaching for the Barbarigo man, whom only laughed as he revealed his own blade.

"Please do not what?" he smirked before slicing Jacopo along the side and shoving him to the ground. The Pazzi whimpered and groaned as the blood flooded from him while he rolled and crawled to his knees.

"I can fix this… Only spare me…" he begged, reaching for his master. However, there was no mercy in Rodrigo's eyes as he drew his blade, and thrust it down into the old man's throat with a simple word.

"No."

Jacopo was dead. Not by Assassin hands, but one of his own. It had been brutal and cruel, and Catherine found she pitied the old man. Oh, he deserved to die, but not in this way. Even worse, she now knew the Templars were more vicious than she had thought—to strike one of their own down so callously. To _laugh_ about it. She thought she heard the man mumble something, yet she could not make it out. However, that became the least of her worries as he lifted his gaze. At first, she thought he was looking at her, but it was just in the general direction.

"So sorry to have claimed your prize, Assassin!" the Spaniard suddenly shouted, and a cold chill shot through Catherine.

He knew.

He knew they were there.

A shout from the center caught her attention, and that chill grew all the colder. Guards had a hold of Ezio. She knew he could handle the two, but still—she was scared now. They had caught him and there were other guards. She would need to act soon. But not yet. They didn't know she was here. She had the element of surprise, so she needed to make good on it. So she kept still—for now. If needed, she would use the Clock. It wouldn't let her let Ezio die, anyways. It couldn't. She had to help him, after all, and if this was her final act to help, then so be it. She wouldn't let him die. She wouldn't lose him like that.

"Did you honestly think I would not expect you to follow? That I did not _plan_ for it? We have been at this a lot longer than you!" Rodrigo mused, though glanced around briefly. "Although, I admit I am disappointed I did not catch the other. Oh, yes. We know of your little friend, Assassin. Do not worry, though; we will find her soon enough and send her to join you... Kill him, and then go out and find the woman and kill her, too."

Catherine tensed; coiling her muscles; readying them for the coming battle. Rodrigo and Barbarigo left Ezio with the guards then. To her relief, the brute and one of the lancers came with them. However, that left the young man outnumbered. He was a master fighter, though—he had a gift for it that she didn't understand, but knew it was superior to hers. They had been working on fighting mass numbers, too, so he should be okay. However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to help.

"Don't let him escape!" she heard Ezio shout, causing her to pause. "Stop him!"

Her gaze flicked to Rodrigo and the Barbarigo man. They were going towards the center exit, assured of their victory. She could cut them off. She could do it. She hesitated, though—would Ezio be alright? She had doubts from her own fears, but ultimately she had to grit her teeth and let herself have faith. He would be okay. She had another duty, and that was to kill the two Templars.

Cursing again, she loosened her cloak to allow better movement and raced through the hallway. The darkness and the sounds of the fight covered her tracks, but the lancer was in the way for a proper strike. She would have to make do. Swiftly, she unsheathed her hidden blade and leaped, shoving it right into the man's face. He didn't have a chance to scream as he fell, blood spraying onto the others, whom paused in shock.

"You!" Rodrigo shouted, recovering first, and drew his blade. The brute recovered next, though, and struck at her while the Barbarigo man shouted for more guards. Catherine dodged the axe and searched for an opening but his armor was too thick; the only one available spot was always at the throat, but it was hard to reach. Even Ezio struggled, and there were more guards coming. Rodrigo was also a danger as he circled, blade ready to strike as he spoke again. "And here I thought one of you perhaps had sense."

She didn't answer his goading. She didn't have time as she avoided the brute's axe again and tried to strike his throat. He slapped her away, though, his gauntlet creating a shallow gash on her cheek. She hissed at the wound as she staggered back, only to curse as she narrowly missed having her head chopped off, and then another sword slash by a second guard. She was in trouble—she couldn't handle both the brute and the normal soldier at once. This time, though, she found she didn't mind using the object in her pocket. Already it was beginning to grow warm, and, pulling on her training with Mario, she increased her already racing heartbeat.

Time slowed, giving her the opportunity she needed to duck below the other guard's blade. He was made of lights, so she cut them at his arm before turning to face the brute. She could feel the heat fading already—her training only gave her the slimmest of control—so she struck at the brute's neck lights. She severed what she could as her power faded. Gasps came first, then screams and gurgles as blood sprayed. Catherine turned to face the other attacker—Rodrigo. He stared, eyes wide with shock, although he kept his composure and blade brandished.

"What sorcery—?!" he guffawed as she charged past the brute, whom stagger back, clutching at his neck. She made to swing her blade to cut him in his stupor, but pain shot through her. She grunted, her body falling on one knee in her agony, and realized her pocket was on fire. Her eyes still met the Spaniard's, whose shock was more in tune with confusion now. Behind him, more shouts for aid came—no doubt from the Barbarigo man—and she imagined other soldiers were coming. She knew, deep down, the Clock wouldn't let her die, but it was keeping her from killing Rodrigo. That could mean only one thing then.

Rodrigo Borgia would not die tonight.

The Spaniard managed to recover from his initial surprise and made to thrust his blade into her. As she expected, the Clock released her, allowing her to roll to the side. The burning remained in her side as she hurried up to her feet. Instinctively she grabbed at it, pulling it free to keep it from scalding her side. She felt it through her palm, though, and hissed as she and the Spaniard faced one another again. His eyes moved from hers to the artifact, and she swore she saw a flicker of recognition—or was it shock again? The item wasn't lit or anything; the burning was, essentially in her mind, though she felt it all too clearly. So what was it? Why the look?

She was given no time to ponder further as the other guards came. She parried the blade of the first and managed to unleash the Hidden Blade in the hand holding her Clock. She shoved it into the man's gut and then kicked him away. Again she activated the artifact of her own accord, using a brief slow of time to avoid a lancer's thrust and shove her sword into his neck. He fell immediately, and then she turned only to duck below the third guard's attack. She followed with kicking his legs out from beneath him and shoved her Hidden Blade into his chest. She stood back up at once, brandishing her blade, and found herself alone with the Spaniard again. Only, he did not seem as concerned; his blade was lowered and he looked at her, more so with curiosity.

She should have known better, but Catherine charged, intending to end his life. He brought up his blade to defend himself, but once again searing pain shot through her. She managed to stay standing, but she was frozen, hissing with pain that made her arm shake as the Clock burned into her flesh. She looked to Rodrigo, and though his sword remained up, he did not approach. Not yet. He regarded her as before, his mind working some machination behind those cruel eyes. He hummed thoughtfully as he came forward, lifting his weapon as if to strike. The Clock freed her just like before and she stepped back to avoid it. The Spaniard did not follow, though, but rather smiled suddenly. It sent a cold shiver through her.

"Interesting," he mused with a chuckle, and then sheathed his blade. Catherine blinked, far more than confused as the man adjusted his cloak. His eyes flicked down to the artifact in her hand and then back to her. "_Very_ interesting… You lot are somehow more useful than I believed. Be at ease, though—for now. It seems neither of us is to die tonight, Assassin."

Rodrigo spared a final look to her Clock, then turned and ascended the stairway. The redhead made to go after, but the Clock flared, and she cursed. Just as she had thought, Rodrigo would not die tonight, and neither would she.

_'Wait—Ezio!' _she thought suddenly, and, with no more enemies coming for her, spun on her heels and ran back to the center of the theatre. Bodies littered the ground, and the grass was stained with deep pools of red. However, the young man was not among them; rather, he was crouched beside Jacopo. Gently, he closed the old man's eyes, his head bowed low. She imagined he was granting him words of peace, and despite the pain and the vileness the man had shown, she did pity him—a little. At the same time, she supposed he deserved it.

"Ezio, I'm sorry—Rodrigo escaped. The Barbarigo man, too," she spoke up once she reached him. The young man paused only a moment before he stood. She could see the blood on his armor and clothes then, and the fresh cuts he sported. A bruise, too, on his cheek, but he would heal soon enough.

"It's alright," he replied softly before suddenly frowning and gently touching at the side of her face. "You're bleeding."

"The brute got my cheek is all—it's not too bad."

"Your nose, too?"

She frowned, touching at her nostrils, and, sure enough, there was blood, "Oh, uh… I guess so. I didn't even notice… you look like you have it worse, though. Just look at your arm."

"I'll be fine—besides we have more important things to worry about," he rumbled, also frowning.

"You mean about the Barbarigo man—about _Venezia_."

"Yes. It seems it's as we feared—the Templars still have some grand scheme at work, and I doubt they will be content to leave _Toscana_ and _Firenze_ be."

"No, I don't think they will... So… I guess that means our work isn't done, is it?"

"I suppose it's not… you are still here, after all," Ezio replied, grinning suddenly. Catherine tilted her head, confused, but then her eyes widened in realization. She lifted her Clock, still in her hands, and looked at it. She _was_ still here. Did that mean she still had work to do? It had to—right? She supposed it didn't matter in the end; she was still here, which meant she had more time here. That's what mattered most, or she liked to think so. Yet now she worried exactly what she was supposed to help Ezio with—what change was she supposed to prevent?

"Then… well, I guess… I guess this means we have to leave home—for a lot longer this time. We'll have to go to _Venezia_."

Ezio paused before nodding, "Yes, we will. It's not going to be easy so far from everyone."

"Has _any_ of this been easy?" she chuckled, motioning to everything, and after a moment, he chuckled, too.

"No, I suppose not. It will get harder, though."

"And we'll deal with it like we always have—_together_," Catherine smiled, and he returned it, touching her arm gently.

"Together," he nodded before lightly tugging. "We should return home, though, as soon as we can. At first light if possible."

"Yeah—it's too late right now, and we better go before anyone comes. I won't be surprised if Rodrigo sends more guards this way. And I'm sorry—again—for not stopping him."

He waved his hand as he headed towards the side wall, "Don't worry; we will stop him. Right now we have to focus on one thing at a time."

"What's this—you're speaking sense? Who are you and what have you done with the real Ezio?" she smirked, and he gave her a look.

"Ha, ha, very funny. I _have_ been learning how to be a proper Assassin, you know," he pouted.

"I know, but usually I have to make sure you're sensible. It's kind of nice not having to babysit."

"You do _not_ 'babysit' me. Also, we will need to visit Lorenzo as soon as we can, too; he will want to know the Pazzi are finally finished."

She nodded as she slipped over the wall with him, "Sure. We can maybe find out about things in _Venezia_ as well—surely he knows something about there that Mario might not?"

"It's possible, but he can't help us too closely—he can't be seen to associate with us, you know."

"Unfortunately," she huffed slightly, although she did know the gravity of the Medici's position and how being associated with their work could damage it. They needed him in that seat of power, too, so it was simply better things worked as they did, even if it might make it more difficult. "Although… now I wonder if it isn't just the Pazzi we need to worry about out here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I know we took care of those other guys who weren't Pazzi, but obviously the Templars are everywhere, or at least seem like it… and we both figure Rodrigo will maybe try to take these places again—he could have other people in place like we do. What if there's others we still need to worry about here?"

"It's… possible. The Medici did have many enemies, and after the attack… well, those enemies could be connected to the Templars. That's something else we can ask him. Mario may know as well. I would rather not wait to head to _Venezia_, but if there are still matters here we must tend to, then so be it. We should also ensure _San Gimignano_ is in our hands with the Pazzi finally gone."

"Well, with both of us around, it shouldn't take quite as long, but we definitely should look into it. I'd rather not all our hard work go to waste… First, though, we should head to the safe house. The one near here always has good medical supplies on hand. I think I can stitch up the wound on your arm. I've been learning from Annetta."

"Since when?" he inquired, brow raised.

"While you're out in the fields, usually. I have more free time doing work in the city, so I've been getting tips from her over what she did to help your dad, like with clothes and such," she replied as they came to the dirt path and crossed over it; better to stay in the shadows. Thankfully the place was not far away, so it wouldn't be much longer. She was personally glad for it. She felt tired now—more than she thought she would have—and she had to think Ezio would be exhausted, too. His wounds weren't all that bad, but he'd taken on far more guards. She just hoped the safe house keepers would be willing to give them another meal. Running and fighting had warmed her up, but now it was cold again and she lamented discarding her cloak.

"Well, I'm glad for it—I suppose I will need to learn as well," he chuckled.

"It would help, especially if we go on solo missions like we did for a little while—not long after the attack on Lorenzo, remember?"

"Hmm… yeah, it would help, although I was generally able to find a doctor who didn't ask questions."

"Well, better safe than sorry sometimes. Anyways, let's hurry up and get there. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to eat and then conk out," she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

A yawn began his reply, "I have to agree—completely. That was more exhausting then I'd liked to admit."

"Probably because now we have more to do, but we'll get through it. Just have to get some sleep first," Catherine chuckle, touching his arm briefly, and then continuing onwards.

The distance between their safe house was covered quickly, and they were all too happy to find the family still awake and able to provide them with warm food, blankets, and medical supplies. They were quickly ushered into the barn where they would stay, not minding the horses or the smell. It was a warm place to stay for the night, and with a lantern as light, they got to work.

Thankfully, their wounds weren't as bad as they seemed, and Ezio only needed a few bandages in the end—on his arm, around his chest, and then a small wrap on his leg. Catherine only had to dab her cheek—the rest was mostly bruises. They would no doubt last a long while, but they didn't even hurt anymore. With that done, they gorged on their food, relishing in the warmth it provided. It would serve them well until they could return home, although it was only a minor shield against the dourness of what was to come. Still, it did its work, and they were able to settle down comfortably on the large pile of hay they had used time and time again.

However, as the hours passed, Catherine found her warmth leaving much faster despite the meal, the blanket, and the heat from Ezio's back to hers. Her mind was too focused on the Clock and all the new things that she was trying to understanding. It was a giant jumble, and essentially none of it brought her comfort. Indeed, she clutched the item tightly in her grip, biting her lip and trying to make sense of it all despite how fruitless it was. In the end, she could only sigh deeply, sleep ever further away from her, and put the damned thing back with her things. She knew it was foolish to worry over it, but she couldn't help it. So it ate at her; made her stomach churn uneasily, and made her pull the blanket tighter.

"Catherine?" a soft whisper came in the dark, tired and half-asleep, but getting clearer. She silently groaned, wishing he would stop somehow always knowing when she was troubled. It was both a comfort and a bane upon her.

"It's nothing—just can't sleep," she replied back just as quietly, but she felt the blanket shift and knew he was sitting up, looking down at her.

"You know I can tell when you're lying. You can't sleep, certainly, but not for no reason."

"Ezio, trust me, it's just stupid shit and me thinking about things to come, alright? You know how I am," she groaned, rubbing her brow.

"You're right, I do know how you are, which is why I know you're trying to keep the truth from me, and you shouldn't. I also know you know you can trust me," he pressed, and his hand came to rest on her arm, squeezing gently.

Catherine bit her lip, silently sighing. Dammit it. Damn him, too. He always knew how to get at her; knew just what to say. She always tried to put up some wall between them, but he just couldn't let her. Oh, she could temper her feelings despite them slamming against the walls, begging her to just give in. They were the worst in these moments, but she still kept them at bay—reminding herself he didn't return those deep feelings—as she finally turned onto her back. She closed her eyes, breathing out deeply through her nose.

"I'm just… scared. I think."

Ezio leaned back on one arm, watching her, "You're worried about the Templars?"

"Well… actually… no—not the Templars. We have a plan for them, even if it's more like an idea. But… we know how to deal with them."

"Then what is it?"

"It… ugh…. It's so stupid," she groaned, pressing her hands to her face. Ezio remained quiet, though, waiting for her to go on. She sighed aloud this time. "I'm scared… about… well… the Clock—the fact I didn't go back after you killed Jacopo."

The young man hummed, "What is so scary about that exactly? You don't want to stay anymore?"

"No! No—that's not it," she replied a little too quickly as she sat up, causing her to blush. She laid back down with another groan. "It's… I'm just… I'm scared because now I don't know _when_ it's going to send me back. Of course, that's assuming it ever will, but that just makes it worse—the not knowing! I don't know what it's asking me to do anymore! It was one thing with Jacopo; I was ready. I was _prepared_ to expect to go home. It made it easier knowing when even if I didn't want to go, but now… now I could… I'm scared, Ezio. I'm scared not knowing when I might go. It could send me back at _any_ time. I could leave right now or while we're sleeping or in a year or ten years—I don't _know_! And that terrifies me."

"Catherine," he spoke up as she paused, quieting her. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could see him looking down at her, although couldn't make out what was going on behind those irises. "Turn back onto your side."

"Uh…?"

"Just trust me… and don't hit me, alright?" he chuckled and gestured for her to get to it. She watched him briefly before giving in and turning onto her side once more. She heard him lay down, and not a moment later she felt his arms around her. He pulled her close so her back was to his chest, his head nestled so she could feel his breath on her neck.

"There… I've got you now. If that Clock of yours tries to take you, I'll make sure you stay, alright? You won't go until you want to. I'll keep you here, alright? I've got you."

"Ezio…" she murmured, wanting to tell him it wouldn't work—the Clock wouldn't let him stop it. It was too powerful. It would take her no matter what.

"Catherine, just trust me. I won't let it take you. I promise," he said softly, yet firmly, wrapping his arms a little tighter. Her cheeks warmed and it flooded down into her belly while her heart raced. She couldn't help both hating and loving when he did this; made her feel so safe; made her feel like he did return those feelings; made her believe him even if it wasn't really true.

Sighing softly, she closed her eyes, immersing herself in the warmth instead of fighting it, "Okay."

She knew, deep down, there would ultimately nothing that could be done. For tonight, though—even if for a little while—she would let herself believe.

* * *

**42 ** – _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_S__o... who enjoyed the fluff at the end-raise of hands? ;) There IS more to come for catzio fluff, and some comes next chapter! There are two more "montage"/time skip chapters and then the number of them... well, I think the next two may just be the end to cover the FRIGGIN' YEAR THAT GOES BY BEFORE EZIO TO GOES VENICE. Not even joking. A **YEAR **goes by before he leaves. What has he been doing the whole time? Well, I try to make sense of it next chapter._

_For now... well, there's some new questions to be had after the preceding events. Most importantly: just **when **does Catherine go home? **Is **she going home? When will we know? Such is her worry, but luckily Ezio is there to comfort her :) As for the other questions... I'm going to leave that to ya'll to figure out and ponder on. Spoilers, and all ;)_

_Anyways, prepare for more fluff and time skips next chapter (and the one after), and some important relationship developments! And then after that we'll start making our way towards Venice where events start to move a lot faster and a lot of threads start mashing together :'D_


	44. Better Days I

**TMWolf: **_Update time! It's another two-part set, and the last "montage" for a while. So far, anyways, ha ha. I do believe ya'll will greatly enjoy this part ;)_

_As always, how characters act is based off my interpretation of the canon._

_Reviews... seriously, you guys are awesome! I love hearing what you have to say or answering your questions, so, please don't be afraid to speak up! I'm happy to reply and give answers (without spoilers)! :)_

_To my guest reviewer **Lola**: So glad you loved it! You'll love the next one even more, I reckon ;)_

_This chapter's song is from the Goo Goo Dolls - Better Days. Maybe fits a little lyric-wise, but more-so title-wise haha._

_Enjoy!_

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**43 **_– Better Days Part I_

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**January 4, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Welcome back, Sir Auditore, Lady Catherine," Annetta smiled the moment the redheaded young woman and her companion stepped through the entrance of the _Villa_. They had just returned after leaving early in the morning, making sure to avoid the uproar that would come once guards found the bloody scene left in the ancient theatre. They had thankfully been successful and had a safe journey back, although they felt the effects of the fight in their bodies. It had not been as demanding as the one to protect Lorenzo, but they did not often fight so many enemies at once. Catherine knew she shouldn't have felt as lethargic as she did, but there was a distinct ache in her body. She ignored it, however, and was just glad to be home. Already she could smell breakfast in the kitchen, the two of them having arrived before it was time to eat.

"Thank-you, Annetta. You'll have to forgive me, but do you think we could go ahead and eat? It was a cold ride, and we skipped breaking our fast," Ezio smiled a bit sheepishly.

The maid chuckled, "Of course… but afterwards you will want to wash and change—your clothes need mending. And you need a doctor…"

"It's not as bad as it looks—I was able to patch him up like you showed me… but I guess it couldn't hurt. The Doc would probably get mad if we didn't, too," the redhead mused as they made for the kitchen. "A warm bath would be amazing, though."

"You have time before Sir Mario returns to eat his own meal, so feel free. Forgive me, though; if I had known you would return so soon I would have let him know and prepared your favorites as well."

Ezio waved, "It happened late last night and we returned as soon as we woke; no need to apologize. Besides, we love all your food."

"You flatter me, Sir… and I assume that means you would like something of me," the maid mused, giving him a wry smile as they entered into the kitchen. The young man chuckled, although he shook his head as the woman obtained plates for them and placed meats, eggs, and fruit onto it.

"I promise I only desire good food—nothing more. Promise."

"For once he's not lying. He was moaning the whole way about getting good food since we left before the safe house owners could make us some," Catherine snickered as she took the plate and began to scarf the heavenly goodness down. It filled her belly just right and sent warmth through her. Ezio, like-wise, ate plentifully and hummed with delight. The redhead glanced to the maid, "I guess just tell Mario we're here and we'll get ready to meet him in the office. We have news."

"So…" Annetta began, pausing to turn to them. "It… it is done then?"

"Yes—and no. But the Pazzi are finished. Our family is avenged," Ezio nodded, stepping forward to clasp the maid's shoulder. She nodded firmly, touching his hand. He smiled a bit before returning to his food.

"Mario will be pleased to hear it, and so shall the Lady Auditore. You should tell her as soon as you can."

"I will once she wakes. I need to tell them all, actually. We should have them gather during breakfast."

"Very well. I will make sure they're all awake and ready. For now, you two eat, bathe, and dress. I am afraid your day may not be as relaxed as you like with such good news."

"That figures, but we'll manage. Just don't get mad if I nod off during any celebrations," Catherine snickered before scarfing down the last bits. "Guess I'll go bathe first. Hot water good to go and everything?"

"Yes, some has been prepped for the others when they woke. I take it you would rather do it yourself, hmm?" Annetta mused, but the redhead sagged slightly.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind having someone else do it for once. I want to just lay on my bed and sleep."

"Then let it be done. I'll send up one of the girls. Ezio, shall I send anyone…?"

"You could send Catherine," he smirked cheekily, and laughed when the woman in question smacked his arm hard. "No, no; just send whoever to make the bath."

"Very well. Now, go on then. Finish your food and get bathed."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you at the table," the redhead smiled to them both and then trotted off, leaving Ezio to finish his meal.

He didn't take long, and soon he, too, was heading upstairs to refresh. Both were relieved to have their—separate—baths and take in the soothing warmth which beat back the cold and relieved their sore bodies. It felt even better to be home and to be in new clothes—their bloodied ones, while having kept them clean as best they could, had started to stink some. Catherine was especially glad to be in a new shirt, although she did love her blue tunic. Her more relaxed green vest and dark pants were always a good substitute, however, and once she tied her hair up in a bun she was ready to head down. It felt a little odd not having her weapons on her, but this was home and safety. There was no need for them here, although occasionally she kept a knife on her. Not today, though—today was for talking and planning with words and pens, not swords and fists.

"Well, well, look at you—haven't seen you wear the red and gold before. It suits you, and… wait, is that your emblem?" Catherine spoke up as she met Ezio at the top of the first set of stairs. She reached to take it in her hands, examining it. It had some more wear to it than she recalled, but it was to be expected. Still, she couldn't help smiling to see him wearing it—to know what it meant between them for him to have.

He smiled, touching her hand, "I have for quite a while now, you know—ever since you gave it back to me. I just… felt it was right to wear it like this today. It's a proud moment, after all."

"Indeed it is. You deserve this," she smiled back briefly before tugging her hand away. "The color looks good on you, by the way. Did Annetta or Dia make that one?"

"Both, I think? I didn't ask for it, but it was there waiting for me on my bed, so who knows. Green suits you as well, although blue is more your color."

"It is my favorite, although I didn't peg you to know fashion," she mused as they descended.

He chuckled, getting to the bottom first and taking her hand to "help" her down, "A gentleman should always know what makes his lady look most ravishing."

"Uh-huh. Too bad for you, I'm not your lady," she smirked, pulling her hand free as she waltzed past him. "Now, come on. The others are waiting. We've got to give them the good news."

"As you command," he chuckled, and trotted after.

As had been planned, the rest of the Auditore family was present, including Mario. They had already begun to eat, but once the two arrived things settled down so they could speak. Ezio was all too happy to reveal the results of their mission: Jacopo de' Pazzi was dead, and all those who had wronged their family had been taken care of. That is, except for the Spaniard, but that was left be. The Pazzi were the worst perpetrators, and the relief that flooded through the room was palpable. There was much joy to be had, and great cheer was made as well. Even Maria brightened at the news, and spoke more than any had heard her say in a long time. Claudia was even more jubilant, and hugged both Assassins with a great deal of vigor. Their family's souls could rest now—their vengeance had been quenched; how could they not rejoice?

Catherine only wished she and Ezio could have shared it as deeply as the others. There was more work still, and with a quick look to their Uncle, he, too, knew. It was for that reason they were able to excuse themselves on the promise of celebrating proper later. For now, the trio made their way to Mario's office where they told him of what had happened and all that they had heard. The news made the older man frown deeply, his brow furrowing, as he paced.

"In _Venezia_ as well… I had hoped it was just rumors, but to know it is true… damn! They reach farther than we believed," Mario growled slightly, shaking his head with frustration.

"That means we need to go there—to chase them and find out what they're planning," Catherine replied, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against his desk.

"Indeed. I would like to leave as soon as possible," Ezio added, hands on his hips as he faced his Uncle.

"No—not yet," the older man replied quickly, getting confused expressions. "Rodrigo knows you know of his plans—he may expect you to follow and lay a trap if you survived. It would be best to let him think you failed or died and allow him to become complacent. Furthermore, we still have work to be done here."

The redhead hummed, "I… guess that's smart. But what work?"

"With the Pazzi gone, there is a gap left in the power. You have slain their allies as well. Their forces will be in disarray. This is our opportunity to retake _San Gimignano_ and _keep_ it. It will require your aid, though. No doubt Lorenzo knows this and will ask for your help as well when you give him the news. No; there is a great deal left to be done. You might not understand it yet, but despite the good of your intentions and what _may_ come, there can also be trouble in the holes left behind. It is also part of our duty to protect the people you've freed in these moments."

"But what of the Spaniard and the Barbarigo man? What if waiting allows their plans to come to fruition?" Ezio inquired, although his tone suggested he would not really push for it.

"I can see about finding connections there to keep an eye on things, but you must understand: Rodrigo Borgia is an intelligent, calculating man. He is _patient_, as well. He will not act rashly or too quickly. He built the attack against the Medici for a long, long time. He will not make the same mistake again—or at least not try to. You, of course, will ensure his plans are foiled… but when the time is right. Right now, we must focus on increasing our own base of power."

"I understand," the young man nodded and held out his arms. "So. Where would you have us begin?"

"You should inform Lorenzo that Jacopo is dead, and then see if he knows if any other allies of the Pazzi remain. If they do, you two must be rid of them. Once that is done, our allies must be set in place. There may be opposition. They could use your protection. You may need to drive our more Pazzi forces. Beyond that, there is always work to be done in _Monteriggioni_, and you help bring money from your work in the other cities. You need only look and you will find things you can do here to embolden the Assassins."

"No kidding… but how will we know when to leave for _Venezia_? What if Rodrigo has been working for a long time already?" Catherine inquired, standing up straight now.

"That is what I will work on. I will speak with La Volpe, and even Paola. There are often travelers from _Venezia_ in _Firenze_. They can move more easily as well—more so than you will be able to now. Rodrigo knows you are out there; he will not allow himself to be taken by surprise again, and neither will his allies."

"I guess we're doing more waiting again. Always waiting," the redhead groaned, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Sadly, that is how the battles in our war our won—with great patience. Do not worry; it will become easier with time. Just begin with what I said and you will find yourself contending against him in _Venezia_ soon enough. But, worry on that tomorrow. Today you shall remain here and celebrate. You have waited for this victory for too long; it would be a grave sin to not enjoy it with your family," Mario grinned as he came forward. He paused, his expression growing soft suddenly, and he grasped the young man's shoulder. "Your father and brothers would be so proud of you, Ezio. I hope you know that."

"Don't worry—I do. I can feel it," the young man smiled back, grasping his uncle's hand. He released it after a few moments. "But now I must be with my family. Catherine, you will join us, of course?"

She grinned, "Sure…. But in a little bit. Besides, I'm sure Claudia would like her brother to herself. You owe her a bit more for her birthday, so get going."

"Alright, alright. But if you don't come soon enough, I will send Claudia after you."

"Yeesh, okay, okay, now go," the redhead chuckled, waving him on, and he finally relented. Once he was gone, she looked to Mario, whom had caught on already. He watched, waiting for her to speak. Catherine took in a deep breath and sighed. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about this, but it had become a concern on the journey back. "The Clock activated during the battle with Rodrigo—when I went to stop him. It was, at first, just to help with the guards, but then… when I tried to kill him… it stopped me."

The older man's eyes widened slightly, "It… _stopped_ you… from killing him?"

"Yes—like when it stopped me from saving Lorenzo's brother."

"…That means…"

"It means Rodrigo wasn't supposed to die that night, so it wouldn't let me. Rodrigo… isn't supposed to die yet. Whatever plan this Clock has, Rodrigo has to be alive for it… I don't know for how long. It may be next time we meet I can, or…never. I don't know, but… it… well, I'm not… I'm not sure what it means beyond that killing him might not be so easy. I'm… I'm worried about that. What if… what if that means…"

"Catherine, do not trouble you with things that may or may not be," Mario began, holding up a hand to silence her. When she looked to him, he continued, "All you know is that you were not able to kill him—that he was not to die _that_ night. But he may die another. He may not. Whatever the case, you cannot worry on it. You must focus on the present and only prepare as best you can for what may come. Just do not let it consume you."

The redhead sighed, "I know, I know… but… ugh… I just hate this thing controlling me and keeping me from doing what I need to. It's infuriating!"

"I know… but you have _some_ control, no? That is something to be proud of. You have come far with it, and we may continue to improve your control in-between your work with Ezio. We will do as we have, and make you stronger yet."

"…Yeah… yeah, okay, that sounds good… still, though… but you know… it was weird—Rodrigo could have killed me when I was 'stuck'… but he didn't. He just said it was 'interesting' or something and left. How weird is that?"

"That… is puzzling. I am unsure of the meaning… but I would advise only tread more cautiously around him then. Take no chances. We can think on it later, too. _You_ should also be celebrating. You have done so well—grown so much since you came here. You should be proud, little one—as proud of yourself as I am of you," the older man smiled warmly, taking her hands in his.

"Wha—Mario," she blushed, cheeks red as a tomato. She grew sheepish while a stupid smile came over her face. "I—um—uh… I… thank-you. I am. It's all thanks to you and everyone."

"And you will become stronger still. I know it. Now, come—let us celebrate. They are your family as well, even if you may think otherwise," he chuckled, tugging her along. She came willingly, still the stupid smile on her face. She still bore the weight of her worries, but she allowed herself to be giddy. They could worry over such things tomorrow. Today they would celebrate a victory.

**-O-**

**January 28, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Very good, Claudia! You've improved a great deal since you began," Catherine grinned as she finished her bout with the young Auditore, whom was panting lightly, which was a vast difference from the first time. They had started back up not long after she and Ezio had returned after killing Jacopo, and she had been left gasping for air after it was done. Sore, too, from the few fist strikes the redhead had given her to "teach her a quick lesson". She'd wizened up very quickly and now she was holding her own well enough. She was by no means an expert and still nowhere near a normal mercenary level, but she could take an attacker by surprise, which was all she needed.

"My thanks, although my back will ache. You did not have to kick me!" she huffed, putting her weapon into the small sheath she carried on her waist.

"All's fair in battle, little Lady!" Ottavio laughed from outside the ring, earning a harsh glare. "Aw, now, now… don't be mad. I know you could never truly hate me."

"Oh, is that so? Shall I carve the word into you to prove it?" she huffed, folding her arms, but all three knew she wouldn't. Catherine _definitely_ knew—though she had been gone most of the time, she had not failed to notice how the Lady Auditore and the mercenary Captain watched one another, or how their icy words and laughable taunts were layered with an unspoken tenderness. Oh, the redhead knew something was going on between them, even if neither of them did.

Ottavio laughed as he opened his shirt, revealing his burly chest, "I am at your mercy, my Lady. Destroy me as you see fit."

"That is quite the proposition," Claudia mused, strolling over to him and putting her hands on her hips. She eyed him down; confident even though she stood what looked a foot shorter. The Captain only grinned, kneeling down to give her better reach. She made a huffy sound, not amused by the joke or his silent laughter. Without even blinking, she reached down, grasped a hair, and plucked it, which brought forth a short yelp. "You should be wary of what a woman can do."

"So I see!" he managed to chuckle before closing his vest again. "I shall have to be on my toes around you, my Lady, lest you destroy me completely."

"Indeed," the young woman mused, eyeing him briefly with just the faintest of a smile, and then turned back to Catherine. "I must take my leave now. There is much to prepare for tonight."

"What's tonight?" the redhead mused, and the young woman essentially balked.

"It is your _birthday_, woman! And you will not slink out of it. You will have a proper birthday, and we will make sure of it!"

"Oh, right… yeah, I guess last year we were busy so I forgot about it," she chuckled, although she vaguely recalled Ezio having gotten her something anyways. Some art supplies she'd mentioned wanting before, which she had in her room right now.

"Indeed. Now, go get washed and ready. You _will_ have a good birthday!"

Catherine laughed, "Alright, alright! Just don't expect me to dance!"

Claudia ignored her as she went by to prepare for what was to come, leaving the redhead with the Captain. She regarded him for a moment and he regarded her back. In the end, he couldn't help grinning some.

"What?" he finally asked.

"Oh nothing. You guys are just a hoot," she mused right on back.

"Is that so, mm? Well, she is quite fun. Anyways, don't you worry about that. Go get cleaned up. Oh… and happy birthday," he grinned.

Catherine shook her head with a chuckle, "Thanks. Don't pull anything tonight, or I'm whooping your ass."

Ottavio just laughed.

**-O-**

"Ugh, no more party, I'm beat," Catherine sighed as she staggered away from the festivities towards the empty garden in the back.

Behind her she could still hear the echoes of laughter induced by dancing, music, good food, and alcohol. It was all for her, which had delighted and shocked her when she'd been brought out into the training ground area. She had joined in the excitement, too, and even been forced to dance—with some help from wine—much to her embarrassment, but also enjoyment. She knew the men had gotten a hoot, too, watching her make a fool of herself. At least the gifts had been nice—some new gear in the form of weapons and armor, and even some new tunics. Mostly her present was the fun and all her brothers and friends there to celebrate _her_ day of birth.

However, she was the kind of person that could only handle so much, and by the time darkness had sunk in deeply, she felt exhausted by it. Thankfully, most everyone was too caught up with their own conversations and fun to really be concerned with the "birthday girl" suddenly up and vanishing. That was fine by her, and she relished in the quiet of the brush, settling on one of the stone benches. She sighed happily, letting her legs splay out and leaning back on her arms. She stared down at her boots, letting them tilt back and forth, smiling like a goof. Although the party and being around them all had exhausted her, she was happy nonetheless. She couldn't recall a better birthday, and knowing they all cared that much about it—it made her heart swell. She couldn't help giggling a little.

"There you are!" a familiar voice rang, and she looked over her shoulder to find Ezio, a fresh bottle of wine in hand. He unceremoniously plopped down beside her and leaned back, too. He offered her the drink, though she shook her head. "What are you doing out here, O celebrated one?"

"I'm partied out. I'm not as into that stuff as you are. So… I'm… relaxing now," she chuckled.

"Not a bad strategy. Hope you don't mind my company."

"Nah, you're fine. I'm used to having you around anyways."

He smirked, "Finally come to love me?"

"Pfft. Please. You're impossible to love. You're too obnoxious."

"'Please' yourself. I saw how you eyed me during the party—how you enjoyed that dance. You were smiling quite a bit," he winked with a waggle of his brow.

"I was having fun, and I danced with other men, too. You're _drunk_, aren't you?"

"No!" he huffed before taking another sip and then looking down at the bottle. "Well… maybe a little."

She laughed loudly, "Told you. You're full of nonsense."

"Hardly. I _know_ you secretly love me."

"Because of my 'denial', right? Hmm?"

He winked, "Of course."

"You're never gonna give that up, are you?" she hummed, looking over at him as he grinned. He leaned closer, cheeky as ever.

"Not until you give me that kiss."

Catherine raised a brow, letting him just stay like that while she held a straight face. However, she couldn't keep from smiling a little and even laughing at how silly it was. Grinning now herself, she pressed her hands to his face and pushed. He was too close to the edge and so flailed as he fell over onto the ground. The redhead laughed with delight as she stood up and began to back pedal away. The young man huffed as he stood and looked down at his bottle, now shattered and spilled.

"That was perfectly good wine! You owe me now, you now!" he smirked, moving towards her. "And I think you know my price!"

"You'll have to catch me and force it out of me first!" she shouted back, sticking out her tongue for a split moment, and then she spun on her heel and took off.

She didn't know why she was doing it. Really, it was silly, and even a bit childish, but she got a great thrill from it. Maybe she was a little drunk, too, but in the end it didn't matter. She was having fun racing through the lush garden. She could hear him right on her heels, so she dashed this way and that, dodging around limbs and bushes. She knew the garden fairly well, and so did Ezio, so it was even more of a challenge to keep away. She loved it all the more with each passing second even as breathing became difficult because she was too busy trying to laugh.

"Catch me if you can!" she shouted as she leaped through a bush and darted down the dirt path. It lead to a more open area with larger patches of grass surrounded by flower bushes, though those were barren at the moment. She figured she'd go from there back towards the _Villa_ to escape him, and smirked as she ran as fast as she could. She readied herself for the quick turn, but was shocked, instead, to feel a body ram into her. She grunted as she hit the ground and began to roll, still caught up in whatever had barreled into her. She ended up on her back, her captor on top. Of course, it was Ezio, and despite having the air shoved from her lungs from the hit, she started to laugh. The young man, too, burst into laughter as he shifted up, one arm braced beside her as he leaned up. She pressed her own hand against his chest, helping him up as she kept on laughing. God knew why it made either of them giddy, but it took a long while for them to stop and finally calm down.

Catherine finally opened her eyes then and looked at Ezio. Her heart fluttered a little at the sight of him; his face not all that far apart from hers; eyes dark and intense and watching her. Laughter escaped her; stolen by something else. Her cheeks warmed and breathing was difficult again but for an entirely different reason. She swore his face came closer. It probably did. She wasn't sure. Things felt strange—like time was slowing even though she'd left the Clock in her room. Strange thoughts invaded her mind; she wanted him closer—wanted his lips on hers. She wanted him on her, and more. She could smell the wine and his musk and it was intoxicating. She didn't recall ever knowing these things, and yet they drove her crazy. She couldn't help wondering if he felt the same, but surely he had to when his lips were so dangerously close to hers.

"Ezio…" she somehow managed to get out, gaze flicking between his lips and his eyes. The corner of his mouth flicked upwards, but he did not reply; only inched ever closer.

"_Catherine!"_

Reality snapped in place, and both the redhead and young man jerked upwards, sitting upright now. Blinking owlishly, Catherine looked at how they were and how they'd been, and immediately pulled her hand away. If she thought her blush had been hot and red before, this time it was even worse. Her face was practically on fire, and she hastily stood up. Ezio, too, stood up, although he did not look nearly as embarrassed as he brushed himself off.

"Well, ah, I think you are… being summoned," he mused.

Catherine could only glance at him, fingers gripping her tunic, "Ah—uh, yeah. I guess so. I, ah, better go. Um… yeah. So, uh, see you… um, later."

"Right. And, ah, you know, happy birthday," he smiled more sincerely. The redhead looked up at him then, and managed to smile, too. In the distance, the voice that had interrupted them shouted her name again.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling just a little.

Cheeks still burning red, she headed off, though did not fail to hear the young man groan in what seemed disappointment behind her. Ultimately, she decided not to think too much on it.

**-O-**

**February 20, 1480**

**San Gimignano, Toscana, Italy**

Catherine peered down at the unsuspecting guards from the rooftop, the body of one of their allies pulled off to the side, blood pooling out and staining the tanned roof tiles. She already returned her dagger—freshly cleaned on the guard's red garbs—to its spot on her belt, and now she flexed her wrists, activating the mechanism in her hidden blades. A test of sorts; to make sure it was working right. Both were, and so she turned her gaze to the roof top on the other side. The flurry of white, even in the fading light, was obvious. Ezio was moving, and his target was totally oblivious. Sure enough, with a quick slap of his hand over the guard's mouth and a stab in the back, the last archer was down. All that remained was the group of six below: a Captain, a brute, a spear, and three lower ranked. No scouts, thankfully, and the three archers were done.

Time to finish things.

Ezio signaled from across the way. She signaled back her recognition, and they leaped off in unison. Both hidden blades were unsheathed and found their way into the backs of two of the soldiers. Across from her, the Captain and third lower ranked guard were taken care of with minor shouts. The brute and spear wielder turned with a start, but didn't take long to jump into action. The brute became Ezio's problem, while Catherine ducked around the spear thrust. She grasped hold of the pole arm and tugged hard. He flew towards her, but before her blade could reach his face, he grabbed her arm, too. With a snarl he threw her down, but she kept hold of his spear, which tore it from his grip. She rolled up at once and brandished the weapon. She wasn't as skilled as she would have liked with it, but the man was a bit weary as he pulled out a small knife to defend himself. Catherine briefly glanced over at Ezio, watching him dance around the brute. Good, he was fine; now she turned her attention back to her target.

He growled before he charged, no doubt aware of how to work around a spear. She pulled the pole back to block his arm, though, and promptly rammed her heel right into his groin. They never protected it like that should have, and it seemed most didn't think someone would go for it. The man wheezed in pure agony as he fell, dagger dropping to the ground as he did to his knees. She did not hesitate to discard the spear, grab the feather of his helmet, wrench it backwards, and shove her hidden blade into his throat. He gurgled as blood pooled from him mouth, but the life drained from him too quickly even as he tried to grasp at his throat. She let him go and turned back to Ezio, whom ducked beneath the brute's axe swing and shoved both arms up, blades extended, into the man's throat. There was the distinct gurgle, and then the behemoth of a man fell, too.

"You alright?" she called out, and he nodded as he came over.

"Yeah, I'm good. That went better than I thought it would," he hummed, glancing around the scene. He looked out around them, too, noticing the crowd, which had thinned quite a bit since the attack began. Some lingered, perhaps from shock, but others to watch. Some looked aghast and disgusted, but others seemed relieved. The Pazzi were not kind rulers, and the Templars were even worse. This was only one of the few remaining contingents they had dealt with recently, but it was doing good work and soon they might be all gone. This had thankfully been an easy one, but now it was time to go before any frightened bystanders called for proper guards. After all, even if the Medici guards being brought in were "allies" and they killed the Templar guards to help the people, murder was against the law. If they were caught, they would be executed.

"We should go," Catherine noted, pulling two smoke bombs from her pocket. Ezio nodded and, holding her breath, tossed the balls. As soon as the smoke appeared they moved; racing up to the rooftops as citizens shouted and began to cough, blinded. They didn't stop even once they were out of sight; no, they continued to move towards the city exit. Even without the fear of Templars, they continued to use the safe houses; they only did so without worry now. Still, they hurried across the tiles to the exit, grabbed two horses, and hurried off. They galloped only for a short time before they slowed to a walk, content they were fine, and pulled off their hoods.

"Another one down," Ezio smiled, but then frowned at the blood on his sleeve. "Damn. Annetta is going to be cross."

"Only because she enjoys the fact you fear her. She's never cross with me," Catherine smirked, earning a pout from the young man. He just huffed, mumbling something incoherent. The redhead snickered before settling into an easy silence as they traveled off-road, always retaining a sense of caution even if they might not need it.

As they did so, the redhead glanced over at her companion. He had a small smile on his face, which had darkened thanks to the short beard trying to form on his face. It made him look more rugged than he used to, and it fit with his dark locks and strong jaw perfectly. She had been noticing things like that a lot lately, and when she did it for a little too long she found herself thinking back to the night on her birthday. Her cheeks grew red every time just as they did now, but she didn't look away. She _wanted_ to look at him; take him in. She recalled how she'd felt that night and knew what it meant. The feelings she'd tried to hide refused to stay buried, and when things like _that_ happened, or when he would look at her and just smile during training, or how he would keep her close at safe houses whenever she worried—she couldn't help thinking maybe he felt something, too. He was never forward about it, though; he only teased and played and joked. He never told her otherwise, and she had seen him occasionally flirt with other women still, so how could he feel the same?

It was even more frustrating now, though, but she tempered herself. She knew what happened the last time she ever felt like this with a guy, and she didn't want to go through it again. She wasn't sure she _could_ with Ezio. Not with him. She was in too deep with him.

Catherine blinked when the young man suddenly looked at her, brow raised as he smiled a little, almost knowingly but also curiously. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she looked away quickly. He chuckled, of course, but didn't tease much to her relief. After a moment, she glanced over and found him looking ahead, but smiling still. She felt a little silly now, but, ultimately, she smiled, too.

**-O-**

**March 14, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Alright, that's good for the day," Ottavio called out as he hoisted his hoe out of the ground and slung it over his shoulders. He wiped the sweat from his brow, although it only smeared dirt everywhere, and then looked to Catherine, whom also removed her tool from the dirt. It wasn't too hot just yet, although the days had become increasingly warmer, but working the soil was tough work, so she had a good sweat forming, too. Even wearing only her vest up top, and her lightest pants, she was almost drenched. Thankfully, a light breeze had been a constant friend, and it blew now, granting them some relief.

"You know, if Mario wanted to get the rookies stronger faster, all he'd have to do was make them work the fields," she chuckled as they headed towards the cart and donkey they'd brought with them. Their food and drink were there, too, and Catherine happily guzzled down some water before handing it to the Captain, whom did the same.

"Why do you think he keeps a changing schedule? Those rookies are out here more than you think—especially since we've been expanding. Good weather for it this year so far, so we have to get on it before it changes. Claudia wanted to bring in more crops this year, too, so we can start exporting to _San Gimignano_."

"Oh yeah? Not a bad idea… and wait—did you just call her _Claudia_? Since when are you two on first name terms?" the redhead mused, leaning back.

Ottavio chuckled, "She doesn't know I don't call her proper when not around her. Or, well, she _does_ and she hates knowing it. She's a feisty one like that."

"Uh-huh," she mused in reply, eyeing the Captain some. He noticed, and raised a brow. She chuckled. "Sooo… when are you going to finally ask her to marry you?"

He barked with a laugh, "Only if I wanted her to finally actually stab me with that stiletto of hers! Your imagination is a little too big, I think, little one."

"Or maybe I'm not as naïve as you think, nor do you two hide it as well as you do. I've seen you both smiling, watching each other. It's cute. You're a good match, you know."

"Ha! And you would be the expert, no? You and the Auditore boy have sweet eyes for one another, too. Smiling. Watching. We _all_ see it."

She rolled her eyes, "Please. He's just being his flirty self. You and I _both _know he flirts around."

"Ah, that's just how we men are. We like a little chase, but he always comes back to you, you know. Also, I see you're finally not denying you like him."

"I—wha—no, I _don't_ like him!" she snapped, glaring at the Captain.

"Catherine, come on. I'm no fool."

"Oh, and I take it _you_ don't like Claudia, mm? You don't have any affections for her?"

He hummed, much to her surprise, and shrugged, "I admit I have a…. fondness for her. I enjoy her company and sharp wit. Anyways, let's get the ass ready and head back or we'll miss supper."

"So you _do_ like her—then why don't you tell her? She actually talks about you more than you think, although… okay, well, it's more like complaining, but there's no way she would complain _that_ much if she didn't like you, too," she replied as she tidied up their cart and then took the donkey's reigns. With a few clicks of her tongue he got moving, Ottavio on his other side.

"We both have our places, and we both have our work. I've hardly the time to be a proper husband, and do you honestly see her settling down? Being a wife? She runs the whole damn city, you know."

"I'm aware, but come oon… you're like the only guy Claudia likes. She hasn't chased you off yet, and don't say because you work here or you're tough or something. Plenty of others have tried to court her, and she practically runs them out of the city. You should see her handle all the merchants and politicians that come here. I don't know how the _hell_ she got so skilled at it, but she practically rips them apart. She's all business with them, but she has fun with you."

"Why are you so interested in this anyways?" Ottavio mused a bit wryly as they walked.

Catherine shrugged, "Just want two of my close friends to be happy together—to not miss out on a great chance. You do make each other happy."

"I see," the man mused, getting a raised brow from the redhead. He just chuckled, shaking his head, and looked over at her. "You know, you really should take your own advice. Your chance won't last forever, little one. Whatever's holding you back… you best push through it or you may lose that chance forever."

Catherine meant to reply; meant to make some quick, defensive remark about how he was wrong and there was no chance at all, but in the end she couldn't. The words got caught in her throat and she looked at the ground, biting her tongue. She knew it was because, deep down, he was right. She had a potential chance with Ezio, but she was too scared to take it. She wanted to be sure, though—to know it wouldn't end badly. Was that too much to hope for? Maybe. Probably. Still, she knew he was right, and she had to try and take a chance sometime. Or not. She wasn't sure. Too many worries.

"I guess it goes for both of us," she mumbled under her breath, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. She tried to push the conversation from her mind after that, but ultimately it would gnaw at her for the rest of the night, and for many, many more months to come. All the while, though, she knew she would remain a coward.

* * *

**43 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And done! Sooooo, I hope ya'll enjoyed that fluff in there. So close! So freaking close! But not yet, guys. Not yet ;) It's almost there, though. Promise! This couple WILL get together. They just need a final little... push. Kinda. You'll see :'D_

_Anyways... Oh, so the main reason for the montage is because for one stupid fact: EZIO WAITS A FREAKING **YEAR **TO GO TO VENICE. I'm not even joking. If you check the timeline, a year goes by between Jacopo's death and when he gets to Venice with Leonardo. And the journey/voyage does **not **take that long. I actually went and calculated it, and at most it's a month? And that's pushing it. So I decided to go and make up stuff for them to do to pass the time and try and give a reasonable reason. I think it works well enough, anyways, but gosh darn it Ubisoft -A- Make it easy on us, k thx? _

_Right. So. The duo are going to do some "cleaning up" in the Toscana area, and also going to get a certain relationship going a bit more. So still stuff for next chapter, and then it's off to Venice!_


	45. Better Days II

**TMWolf: **_And part two of the what should be pretty much the last "montage" for a while... or even the rest of the story. Hopefully. It's got lots of important goodies, though, so don't you worry :'D It's worth it. Not quite as good of goodies as last chapter, which I noticed everyone quite liked HURR HURR. And, yes, I love to torture. Thanks for noticing everyone ;D Hint: you got like six more chapters of torture to go so get ready. ID_

_Thanks so much for all the reviews! I appreciate all of them and was happy to reply. Feel free to drop any comments/questions/critique/etc! :)_

_Again, the song is by Goo Goo Dolls - Better Days._

_Now to begin part 2! Enjoy!_

* * *

**44 **– _Better Days Part 2_

* * *

**March 25, 1480**

**Florence, Italy**

"Well, things are definitely much better here now," Catherine mused as she gazed around at the street, taking in the thick crowd, the few soldier on the edges doing their patrols, and the buildings where archers could be found up top or opened windows revealed glimpses of the private side of _Firenze_.

Things had changed a great deal since the Pazzi's attack and their subsequent destruction, and Lorenzo Medici had not wasted time in ensuring it would not happen again. Any soldiers in red were removed from the city and either thrown into jail or executed. Occasionally she and Ezio would help when the situation was beyond the leader, but for the most part he could handle everything on his own. It was a good thing to behold, and meant the enemy was weak—_very_ weak—in their homeland.

As such, the two assassins were at liberty to walk the streets of _Firenze_ with essentially no care at all. It was as if they were back in the days before everything had gone wrong and simply enjoying things. In fact, they had made a point to tour the streets; to find the old places they had frequented and to visit the _Palazzo_ once more. This time was not so sorrowful, but more a sense of fond nostalgia that brought a small smile to the young man's face, although the loss of it was always there. The burden was lifted some compared to before, and so he was able to leave without despair weighing him down. Catherine, at the very least, was relieved to see that in him and she, too, did not fret so much.

"Indeed, and with this cape we're able to move with even less trouble," Ezio grinned, pulling the cloth over his shoulder again, the ornament having moved back. On it was the symbol of the Medici—an unmistakable sign that they were allied with _Firenze_'s great leader.

Catherine hummed, glancing down at the pendant she wore, also bearing the family insignia, "It does make things nice knowing the guards won't harass us. Still hate having to wear a cloak, but having the people stare is even more annoying."

Alas, despite the city no longer a danger, the people would still find it an odd sight for a woman to walk in a man's clothes and carry their weapons. _San Gimignano_, she had come to find, was better about such things, but it was also smaller and more rural. Here was the epitome of high society and civilization, and women followed very different rules. That, of course, she had learned a long, long time ago under Maria's tutelage, but it was still a frustration. She could handle it, though—she'd survived Mario's training and Ezio's obnoxiousness, after all.

"You should let them stare—let them gawk. I know I would find such a woman fascinating," the young man smirked next to her, eliciting an eye roll.

"You already do more than stare. You're a pill."

"So you've said, but I only speak the truth. Besides, your red hair is alluring. You should let it be seen."

"I'm fine as I am, thank-you. Now, hush, and let's hurry and get to Leo's. I told him in our letter we'd be there for supper, and we're going to be late at this rate."

"Well," Ezio mused, pausing to point up at the roofs, "why don't we go the quick way then?"

"Because while the guards won't shank us on the street, it is still technically illegal to go on the roofs?" she mused right back, brow raised.

"Perhaps… but murder, stealing, and trespassing are _also_ illegal, but you and I both do so regularly," he smirked, and she opened her mouth to make some rejoinder, but pressed her lips back together instead. Damn. He was right. Clever little bastard.

"Fine, fine," she chuckled, shaking her head and headed for the nearby alleyway. "But we'll at least not do it in the public eye."

"Of course," he snickered, following right on her heel.

She brought them into the alley, and, seeing the coast was clear, made the short scale up the few stories. It was easy enough to find the footholds and grips that she needed with all her years of practice now, and so they were both on the roof in a matter of moments. From there they checked for any guards—thankfully most were further off—and they headed in the direction of Leonardo's workshop. It wasn't too far, and the jumps were fairly easy besides one requiring a decent running leap, but they made it far faster to their friend's home than just taking by the street.

"Oof. There we go," the redhead grunted as she landed in the small courtyard next to the artist's shop and quickly brushed off her gear. Ezio landed not a moment later and did the same before leading the way to the workshop door. With a quick knock, they entered, and found the place as cluttered as ever. Leonardo, of course, was busy with a painting.

"If you would, grant me a moment more. I simply need to finish a few last details and then I will be at your disposal, my friends," the artist smiled over his shoulder before returning to the painting. Catherine, meanwhile, brought around a few chairs, and Ezio made his way to the artist's food stores, having finally learned the location after various visits over the past few months. Cheese, bread, and wine were the general staple since the artist did not partake of meat, but the food was always good, and the drink even better. Once the last few brush strokes were made, Leonardo finally joined them, giving hugs and quick pecks on the cheek before settling down and waving his arms around towards them.

"It is good to see you both doing so well!" he beamed.

"And the same to you. It looks like you just keep doing better and better around here. You're famous now, right?" Catherine chuckled, earning a slightly sheepish grin from their friend.

"Well, perhaps a little. I have gotten quite a few requests to take my services elsewhere—_Roma_ was one, and _Venezia_, too. France, even. It seems my reputation has moved farther than I could have ever imagined!"

Ezio scoffed, "Come now—you're full of talent! Even _I_ can see it."

"And that's saying something," the redhead snorted with a playful smirk, earning a small huff from her comrade. "Anyways, that's great to hear, though! Are you… thinking of going?"

"Well," Leonardo hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… have considered. There are great opportunities elsewhere, but I do love _Firenze_. It is not an easy decision."

"Just do what you think is best. If anything, it might be an amazing experience, and you know we'll keep in contact—we'll find a way to keep sending you letters," Catherine smiled.

The artist nodded, "Of course! Of course! I wouldn't dream of not getting them anymore. I always enjoy knowing you both are well, and that your family is, too. I admit I wish I could visit Lady Maria and not just send paintings, but I have been so busy that travel is neigh impossible!"

"Don't worry—my mother loves each and every one. I believe she intends on making sure we have a gallery of works in the _Villa_. I think most all of it is your works, actually," Ezio laughed lightly as he drank. "But you should come visit one day. We would be glad to have you, and I think there are quite a few things you would like to look at."

"Oh, I do not doubt it," Leonardo chuckled, eyes twinkling with excitement. "Oh! Speaking of… you mentioned in the letter you have another Codex page?"

"Eager are you?" the redhead snickered before reaching into the pack she had strapped over her shoulder and pulled out the scroll. "But, yes, we have one."

"Ah! It is always so exciting—but I will tend to it later. After all, I have my dearest friends with me. We should spend as much time as we can before you are off again to do you work," he smiled, setting the scroll down before standing and brushing off his hands. "So—shall I see to procuring us something proper to eat and not these table scraps?"

"I'd say we're famished enough—although go light on Ezio here. He's been getting a little pudgy with doing less work these days," Catherine smirked, rapping lightly at the young man's belly.

"Hey!" Ezio pouted, shooing her hand away. "I am _not_ pudgy, and you know it. Just yesterday you couldn't help staring at me when I removed my shirt."

"Oh ho?" Leonardo smirked, brow raised playfully while the redhead's face turned scarlet.

"I did not! Leo don't believe him, he's lying!" she hissed, although she recalled perfectly how the young man had revealed his chest at the tavern they'd stayed at. It was a cheeky move to show off his distinctly _not_ pudgy physique and smirk right at her when he noticed her looking. He had become incredibly cheeky in that way lately, and she only occasionally hated admitting she liked it. She knew, deep down, she was treading dangerously around things, but she couldn't help it—not anymore.

"Oh, of course, of course. Now, if you will excuse me, my friends, I will see about that meal. Please, make yourself comfortable," Leonardo chuckled as he stood, eyeing them both and headed out.

"I intend to," Ezio smirked teasingly, reaching for the straps and buckles of his gear. Catherine knew his game at once and huffed as she stood up and trotted after the artist.

"Hold on—I'll come with, and see to the bedroom instead. He's going to be sleeping on the floor and all," she called, shooting the young man a glare, but it only made his smirk worse. Her artistic companion only chuckled and then watched her for a moment as they walked down the hall. Catherine noticed, and raised a brow that tried too hard to look bewildered. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. It is just… if I did not know better, I would say you two are…?" he began, smiling coyly.

She flushed, "_No_. We're… we're not that."

"You are certain?" he pressed, still smiling.

"I don't… I mean… well, yeah, I'm sure. We're… we're just friends—co-workers. Allies," she rumbled, frowning at the notion she didn't really believe that. "He's too… too… well, ridiculous anyways."

"I see," Leonardo hummed, his smile turning into a thoughtful expression. "Well, no matter. It is still good to see you both get along so well. Oh, so tell me—would you like any particular meat tonight?"

_I can think of one, _she mused suddenly, and quickly mentally slapped herself as she shrugged to the artist. He rubbed his chin for a moment before nodded.

"I will see if my assistant can gather some roast for you both. I will find us fruit and bread as well."

"Sounds great. I'll just tend to the room, and make sure Ezio doesn't ruin another one of your paintings," the redhead mused, and the artist winced at the memory.

"Ah, yes. Please do. My client was, ah… not happy to know a hole was made in his daughter's face," he chuckled painfully.

"Yeeeah, I remember you writing that. Right. So I'll get to it and protect your things. Later we can talk about your inventions without him scoffing and being childish about them, yeah?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, yes, definitely! My flying machine is almost ready, I think. I would love to hear some of your opinions—but first: supper!" he laughed, demeanor bright once more, and with a quick farewell, almost skipped off. Catherine chuckled at the display, shaking her head slightly, and then headed to the bedroom. It was at it always was, kept nice and tidy in the event they ever came. Truthfully, she wasn't going to do anything to it. She knew she and Ezio would just share the bed as they usually did—it was a normal thing after all their work in _Toscana_, although they slept separately at the _Villa_, of course. Really, she had only come to get away because she was still a coward despite what Ottavio had told her weeks ago, and a part of her just wished the young man would be honest with her. After all, how could she know he was being truthful if she asked? Wouldn't it be better if he confessed—assuming he had anything to confess? Why did he have to make it so difficult?

Groaning slightly, Catherine let herself fall onto the bed, arms splayed out as her legs hung over the edge. Why couldn't anything be simple with him? Or, well, why couldn't her _emotions_ be simple with him? She didn't doubt she was overthinking it, but it was so hard not to. She was starting to consider just telling him—that she had feelings for him and she hoped he did, too, but she was still too nervous; too scared. It was awful.

"You know, when you said you were preparing the bed, I didn't expect you meant _this_," a familiar voice called with a playful chuckle, but before she could reply she found him leaning over her, face much to close and one arm braced on the other side of her head. He had politely set his body beside her legs rather than between. Yet, even so it was all-too familiar of a moment just months ago, and it made her heart race instantly as he smirked. "But… I was certainly hoping for it."

"Don't do that," she huffed, looking away in the futile hopes he wouldn't see her blush as she pushed against him. Thankfully he let her up, letting her turn from him slightly.

"Do what?" he inquired innocently, and she had to shoot him a tiny glare.

"_That_. Doing… you, I guess."

He raised a brow, "Doing 'me'? And what's wrong with me? What am I doing wrong then?"

"Nothing—it's just…it… ugh," she groaned, letting her head fall back. She felt him shift and found him leaning closer, smiling a bit more gently at her, although the playfulness remained.

"Catherine," he called, and she looked at him. He was staring at her in that way—demanding the answers, and not just because he was being a pill. He _cared_. Or she thought he did. He had to, but she couldn't trust her judgment enough to believe it—not yet.

"It's… you just… you…," she began, trying to find the words, but in the end sighed and looked at him. To her surprise, she couldn't help but smile a little. "You're the one man who does it so wrong that it's right."

She could see the confusion in his eyes as he tried to understand, and she soon realized she was trying to understand, too. She knew she knew what she meant, but why she said it as such she wasn't sure. Perhaps it was because it was for him to figure out. Whatever the case, she kept her smile a moment longer before looking down, pushing off the bed, and leaving him there.

**-O-**

**April 13, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"You are _insufferable_!"

"And you're _incorrigible_."

"You are nothing more than an abominable brute!"

"And you, my dear lady, are impossibly childish."

"How dare you!"

Beyond the two shouting combatants—although one was smiling and grinning like the oaf he was while the other was flushing and huffing like the denying fool she was—Catherine couldn't help but let out a sigh. It was an odd mix of exasperation and amusement. For one, the fight had been going on for _at least_ ten minutes, and by "fight" it was meant more as the two characters exchanging a bout of words to see who could insult the other to the point of a reaction. Ottavio, of course, had won long ago when he'd made some "lecherous" comment—as Claudia had put it—and flustered the poor thing, but she refused to surrender. She had the Auditore pride in her, and she had gone on insulting him with a huff, but the Captain knew he had won. The redhead knew it, too, and wished they'd stop "fighting" and get back to training. They had come out here to do that, after all.

Of course, Ottavio went and ruined it with some tease. She knew he did it on purpose. She was pretty sure Claudia knew, too, but played it off. If anything, Catherine dared to say she liked it. The young woman did always smile when the Captain turned away. Really, the two of them were just ridiculous.

"Oh, I dare, because it's true… and it's fun to make you angry—your cheeks get red. It's endearing," Ottavio grinned, folding his arms over his chest. Claudia faltered, the red color turning scarlet, and put her arms over her chest right back. Sadly, she hardly made an imposing figure against his, which stood at least a foot taller than her. Still, she did her best.

"You—you—!" she began, struggling, but then sighed loudly. "You, Captain, are an _ass_."

Catherine balked and Ottavio laughed—_loudly_. The redhead stared stupidly, unable to believe that the young woman had just cursed. She _never_ cursed. Ever. Yet, here she was, looking the other way with her lips pursed together, and the Captain almost doubled over with pain as he continued to laugh and laugh.

"Well, well!" Ottavio snickered as he managed to gather his breath. "Seems the lady has a wild side to her after all! I rather like it."

Claudia snorted, though smiled just a little, "Of course you would. Brute."

"Little Lady."

Catherine considered asking if they wanted to continue the lesson, but then stopped when she saw the two of them look at one another. It was the kind of look she knew very well—the look she was jealous of. The way she wish she'd see Ezio look at her.

Love.

Or at least some semblance of it. It was there. It was strong. So she left it be.

Smiling, the redhead turned around, and headed for the Villa, leaving the Captain and the young Auditore to lose themselves in their sweet stupor.

**-O-**

**May 28, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine leaned back lazily on her arms as she sat on the garden bench, watching the two spar. Normally, it would just be her and Claudia going at it, training her with her stiletto—she was doing fantastic and always improving—but today Ottavio had decided to take a stab at it. He had figured it would be good for her to train with someone else, so as to give her a better feel of facing a man, and the young Auditore had agreed. It was meant to be just a round or two, but now it was about the third or fourth, and the two were still going at it. They traded blows and banter, and Claudia was full of haughtiness that came out as huffing while the Captain laughed merrily. What mattered most, though, was that he wasn't holding back, and neither was she.

Although, the redhead was getting a _little_ bored now. There wasn't much for her to do since Ottavio could coach her just fine. Catherine contemplated leaving, but, well, Mario had told her to be here, and God knew the rumors that would start. Not that there already weren't any, but if she left them alone they would be ten times worse and Claudia would be _furious_. Her wrath would then engulf the rest of the soldiers and such, so it was best to stick around. Still, she would have liked to do more, but there was no way she would stop them, either. They were just so good together, and the atmosphere around them was one you didn't interrupt.

Catherine almost hated to admit it, but she was jealous. Of them. And happy—for them. Claudia had been decidedly happier herself since she and Ottavio had grown closer, and he the same. Sometimes, she liked to think that's how it was with Ezio; how she was always happier around him, and he seemed happier around her. Then there were the moments together when she swore _something_ was there. It made her hope grow, and with it her fear. She was slowly growing courage, though. Slowly. Maybe.

"Ow!"

The redhead looked up as Claudia staggered back, stiletto thrown from her hand, which was possibly nicked. She sucked on it briefly as she glared at the man and retrieved her blade. She did not get ready, though, and the redhead just knew words were coming. Sure enough, she huffed.

"_That_ was uncalled for you brute!" she snapped, glaring.

Ottavio grin, "Oh, come now. I'm only treating it as if you were fighting a real person. Any other man would have done more than prick your finger."

"Maybe so, but it still hurt," she quipped back, but then blinked as the Captain came forward and took her hand. He examined it briefly, a tiny dribble of blood seeping through. He chuckled before suddenly bringing it to his lips and sucking it away. He smirked as he held it towards her.

"See? All better. Was just a scratch, but I suppose for a frail maiden such as yourself it's a grave wound."

She huffed again, pulling her hand away, "Please. I am hardly frail anymore, my dear Captain. I can handle myself now, thank-you."

"Is that so? And what if it's not me, but more of those Templars? What if one of those armored brutes comes after you, mm? All on your own?"

"I highly doubt I will be alone—I do not leave the city, after all."

"But, suppose you did—then what?"

"I would hire an escort, of course. The best _Monteriggioni_ has to offer," she mused, hands on her hips with a raised brow.

"Oh? And just who is that? Your brother? But he's too busy. Catherine? No, she's too busy keeping your brother out of trouble. Michelangelo then? No, he's elsewhere. Mario certainly can't. And the others are too less in skill. So," Ottavio mused, rubbing his bearded chin, "I suppose that just leaves me—but, oh wait… that's right… you can't stand the insufferable brute, no?"

She clicked her tongue, "Well… I admit—and I am _loathe_ to do so—but you are the best choice. I _suppose_ I could use you as an escort."

"Well, I would be honored then. I shall do all I can to protect you, my frail lady."

"I told you I am hardly frail anymore."

"But who knows what kind of trouble you'll get into?" he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "I will be sure to keep it simple enough for me to handle myself."

"And what if you get into worse?"

"Well, I shall just have to rely on you then."

"And knowing you, there will be quite a bit of trouble to follow. No doubt I'll have to follow you for a long time."

Claudia waved her hand, "Oh, please. I would not dare bring such scandal—the two of us? Alone together?"

"Are you really so afraid of rumors? I find them quite amusing," Ottavio laughed, much to the young woman's annoyance.

"Perhaps for a man with no honor they are a mere trifle, but I am a woman of stature, and to be thought to be acting scandalously with such a brute would do me no good."

"Hmm… I suppose that _is_ an issue. How to solve it? I certainly can't let anyone else escort you, lest you come to too much trouble."

"Indeed," Claudia mused, sounding as if not amused, but there was a small smile on her face. Ottavio grinned as he came closer, gesturing with his hands.

"You could just stay in the city then, but you're bound to need to leave or you might go stir crazy—unless, you wish to remain cooped up here?"

She snorted, "Hardly. I intend to take business ventures and speak with various merchants in other cities, and I have been confined here long enough. Not to mention I would like to visit _Firenze_ again someday. Perhaps _Roma_, too."

"And you will need me at your side at all times."

"You are starting to sound like you will become my husband if I take you as my escort," Claudia scoffed almost playfully.

Ottavio smirked as he came closer still, "And is that such a bad thing? Or am I too much of a brute?"

"Oh, certainly. Frankly, I am rather concerned you will be able to keep up with me. Despite your training, you are hardly the perfect soldier."

"I guess that means I need to prove myself, hmm?"

"I should say so. Besides, I doubt you could handle a young lady such as myself. I am far too refined for you," the young woman replied coolly, lifting her head haughtily.

Ottavio chuckled, "Maybe we should test that assumption?"

"If you have the gall, then by all means."

"Does this mean you want me to marry you?"

Claudia smiled, "That depends—do you have the courage to ask me?"

"Well then," the Captain chuckled, taking her chin gently into his hands, "does that mean you'll be my wife?"

"I… will consider it."

"I'll take that as a yes," Ottavio smirked one final time before pressing his lips to hers.

Beyond them, Catherine stared.

And stared.

And stared.

Mostly, she wondered what the _hell_ had just happened, and how a playful argument suddenly became a proposal. How did that kind of thing happen? She was probably dreaming or something, but as the two continued to exchange their affections, she realized it wasn't, and that she was intruding.

Withholding an awkward cough, Catherine silently excused herself and slipped out of the garden, all the while extremely happy for them, but also still incredibly confused.

**-O-**

**June 15, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

It was an amazing ceremony.

Practically the entire city had come to see the unification of the two, and it was well-packed in front of the church. Everyone wore their best—even the soldiers, although they weren't as fancy as most. Otherwise the merchants were dressed handsomely, the women in their best dresses, and the family was just as well. Maria wore a finely adorned gown of their family colors, and even Ezio sported a handsome outfit of red, gold, and white. Mario was like-wise the same, and each wore the family insignia proudly. Claudia, meanwhile, wore the traditional white and Annetta and Dia had made it magnificent. It suited her perfectly and had traces of gold in all the right places. They'd sown a proper garb for Ottavio as well, and he'd groomed himself nicely. He wore his weapons like the others, but they both complimented and made him look all the more gallant as he stood with his new wife before the priest.

Catherine couldn't stop smiling for them both, and even having to wear an uncomfortable dress didn't bring her pause. She had wanted a vest like the other soldiers, but Claudia insisted, and it was her day, so the redhead was happy to comply. She only refused to set up her hair "proper", and thankfully she received that compromise. Alas, it was not enough to abate Ezio's teasing, although the ceremony starting did. It was just about over, though, and she knew it would soon resume.

She held her breath briefly as the priest gave the final words and the rings were exchanged. The couple looked at one another with such love and admiration it made Catherine's heart swell some. God, she really did envy them, and so clapped fervently when the two kissed, sealing their unity. A great roar of cheers came from the crowd as the two began their walk as a couple back towards the _Villa_. They had not divined a place to spend any honeymoon, so the _Villa_ would have to do. It would be where Ottavio stayed from now on with his wife, after all, although he would remain their Captain and Claudia their city manager. Their home was only a little busier, and many expected it would be busier still now that the two were man and wife.

"You know… she's not going to let you live down that fact she married before you," Ezio spoke up as the cheers died and the crowd began to disperse to begin the various parties and celebrations. The newly married couple would join it soon enough, although for the one in the garden rather in the tavern or in the city itself. Catherine and the rest of the Auditore's would only meet up at the former, but for now there was a pause.

The redhead looked up at him, "Yeah… she probably won't. Dammit."

"You know that could be easily rectified," the young man chuckled as he held out his arm for her to take.

"Don't tell me _you're_ proposing, too," Catherine snorted, brow raised.

Ezio smirked, "Would you like me to?"

A light flush came over her cheeks, but, much to her relief, Maria suddenly came between them and took his arm. The young man became sheepish at once, and was decidedly more proper in how he held himself.

"Now, now, my son. This is your sister's day. Do not be so troublesome," she spoke calmly, but almost knowingly.

"Yes, mother. Come, I will escort you to the garden."

"Please. Catherine, do join us shortly. Claudia wishes you to sit at the main table, as you know."

"Of course," the redhead smiled and then glanced to Ezio. He noticed and playfully winked. Inwardly, Catherine groaned. Great. She knew he was just going to sit by her and bug her all night.

Ah well. She knew she would like it, and then that stupid asking about the proposal—it was getting to her. Making her giddy.

Stupid Ezio.

Catherine chuckled in the end as she shook her head, and made towards the _Villa_. She could worry about that later; she had a party to attend to, and a younger "sister" to both congratulate and tease.

**-O-**

**December 5, 1480**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine winced at the pressure that formed in the back of her head as she maneuvered with the Clock activated, slicing at the threads of a guard's neck. She willed the thing to stop, and it seemed to obey as time returned to normal while she slipped passed the man. Blood spurt from his neck, and he fell. Two more remained, but they looked afraid now—no doubt it had seemed as though she'd teleported a little. That was the best way she could describe it based off what Mario told her _he_ saw, and it just made sense. She was stepping out of time and so it would look like she suddenly "hopped" position. It had proven to be a great way to cause her enemies pause, which granted her an advantage.

Sure enough, she disarmed her opponent and shoved her hidden blade into his chest. He toppled and she ducked as the other guard swung. She rammed her legs into his, tripping him, and then quickly spun to shove her hidden blade into his throat. Both died almost instantly or would go down soon enough, which left no more guards to deal with, granting her a much needed reprieve.

It had been an unexpected force for this mission—a final one to oust the remnants of the Pazzi and Templars in _San Gimignano_. She had taken on one group, while Ezio had gone off to the other. The exact numbers weren't sure—the force was relatively recent and cautious—but Giuseppe had learned enough from all the thieves around town to figure out where they might be going. Thus, the split up, and she ended up with the butt-load of guards to deal with. It had been disheartening at first, but she played cautiously and used her training along with a bit of Clock. She still hated using the device, but it did come in handy when it was five against one, even if they were all lower-grade guards.

"Uff. Need a hot bath and meal. It's way too cold," she huffed, pulling her vest a little tighter around herself. She lamented the blood on her clothes, which would need a good wash, but at least they could head back now. They'd been here way too long to scout for the group and wait for the right moment to attack, but now it was done with. She sighed with relief at that as she went around and closed all the eyes she could, but that was all the time she could afford. The fight had been loud and no doubt the guards—Medici allied—would be coming. Despite their allegiance, she would still be arrested if caught. So, with the last honors given, she took off she headed to the outskirts of the city. They would meet up at the ruins and head for the safe house, so it was to there she went and stood for quite some time, puffing hot air onto her hands, and wishing he'd hurry up.

"Sorry I'm late—I had a runner. He was faster than I thought," a familiar voice rang, and she spotted her companion walking towards her in the dark, a cloak over him and one in hand. She happily took the dark garb and wrapped it around herself, pulling it up over her nose to keep warm.

"It's fine, and aaah thank-youuu. It's really cold this year. We're bound to have a bad freeze," she grumbled as they began to walk.

"I know—it's practically unbearable. I'll be glad to be home, although it's not all that warmer," the young man huffed slightly.

"It suuuucks… our crops suffered a little, too, and I feel bad for Claudia—she's pregnant, so it's worse to deal with. She's about six months now, too, right?" the redhead mused, and Ezio nodded with a big grin. "Thankfully Annetta, Maria, _and_ Ghita all are there to help. Ottavio is doing a good job, too. He's so glad to be a dad, and you, I see, are happy to be an uncle."

"Of course! Mostly, I'm happy for my sister. I used to worry she'd never find a man who could handle her, and now she is to become a mother! Our mother is happy as well. She has brightened even more than ever about having a grandchild on the way. So… yes, I'm very happy—their child is already bringing much joy to our lives."

"No kidding. I used to think Claudia would never want kids, but she's just so excited. I'm happy for them myself, and this is good for the city, too. I mean, others have kids all the time, but, y'know, when Claudia's happy, so is everyone else."

Ezio laughed, "So true! Ah, but I can't wait to see my new nephew. And to get some hot stew and sleep. Today has been too long."

"God, no kidding. At least that's the last of things. The Pazzi should be finished here, which means we need to go talk to Lorenzo soon. Talk to Mario, too; see if he wants us to wait a little longer before we head to _Venezia_ or if he heard anything."

"I wish he would just say to go," the young man sighed, shaking his head. "Of course, we could go without his permission…"

Catherine bumped into him slightly, "Yeah, but Mario knows what he's talking about, and we _have_ had important stuff to do here. Who knows, maybe there's a bit more to do in _Firenze_, and we can always help out in _Monteriggioni_—especially with how bad this winter is. The fields will need a lot of work and I'm sure there are repairs."

"Not exactly work for an Assassin," he snickered, to which she shrugged.

"Hey, no one said it would be all killing and stabbing and shit. Gotta get back to the basics," she snickered right back.

"So it seems… but at least the wait is almost over. I admit I'm eager to chase after Rodrigo and the others. No good can come from Templars remaining."

"Don't need to tell me twice. I just wish we could keep a better eye, but… well, it's good we've done all the work here—now we have a base of operations to fall back to or get support from. We don't have to keep worrying if the Templars will come back like they did before," Catherine mused, causing Ezio to pause before nodding.

"That's true. It is a shame Lorenzo can't send us aid to _Venezia_ in the form of soldiers, but… well, his influence might help with the Doge there," he mused.

The redhead raised a brow, "Doge… is that what they call their leader?"

"You don't know?" Ezio laughed, to which the young woman pouted. "He's the oldest elected official, but, yes, he is essentially the leader. Seems you need to do some reading before we leave."

"Oh, hush. I bet you don't even know _who_ it is either," she huffed right back, and when the young man struggled to reply, she laughed. "Ha! That's what I thought."

"Fine, fine—we _both_ need to do some work then."

"Meaning only _I _will."

He grinned, "You know me so well."

"I better after covering your ass for so long," Catherine snorted, holding her head up.

"'Covering'..? Oh! You mean keeping me out of trouble, right," the young man snickered, and the redhead had to tilt her head as she realized it had been a long time since her companion hadn't understood any of her modern sayings. He had figured out most of them, so the lost-in-translation bit rarely happened. Ezio snickered, "Well, I would have covered yours, but you won't let me touch it."

"For _good_ reason, you perv," she snorted with a quick glare sent his way. She suddenly turned to smack her rump lightly, though. "Although, I do see why you might want to. It _is_ a nice ass."

"So you say, but maybe I should check? Just in case?" he winked, hand reaching to touch the small of her back and obviously going lower. Catherine snorted as she brushed his hand back.

"Not with those grabby hands."

"Shall I massage it gently for you?" he purred, leaning closer.

"Shall I trip your heel for you?" she winked back, smiling playfully.

He clutched at his chest, right over his heart, "Ah! You are so cruel to me. I only wish to partake of that 'nice ass' of yours."

"Maybe if you're a good boy," she snickered, patting his arm. She laughed a moment later, shaking her head. "Alright, enough fooling around—let's just hurry up and get to the house to get warm."

"For once, I am all too happy to agree… although I could warm your ass up for you," he smirked, waggling his brow.

Catherine stopped to look at him, he smirked a little more, and she couldn't help smiling and laughing as she shook her head.

"You perv."

**-O-**

**February 25, 1481**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Geez, look at you—you look ready to pop!" Catherine chuckled as she approached Claudia, the heavily pregnant woman still hard at work at her desk. The redhead granted her vigor to her youth—nineteen now, married and full of life. Personally, the redhead would never have considered getting married or having a baby that young, but times were different here, and, well, she wasn't Claudia. The woman had found the love of her life to have it with—of whom was out and about training, but wouldn't be gone too long. Ottavio was rarely away from his wife; always making sure she was comfortable, happy, and safe. He was watching out for two people, after all—his lady and possibly a son or daughter. Obviously the father hoped for a boy, and the mother a girl, but whatever came of it, they would both be happy. Everyone would be.

"_Do not_ remind me. I feel like a stuffed potato or—or _something_. Mother says that is normal, as is—_oof_—the kicking," Claudia groaned, rubbing at her belly when the little rascal inside made some unappealing movement. "I admit I will be glad when our child comes. I am rather tired of walking around like this. My face is so puffy as well."

"Don't worry, the 'baby fat' will come off after a while," the redhead chuckled as she stood before the desk. "And you know you should leave the books to your aid—you should be resting as much as possible. I mean, it's just about time for your kid to come. March should make nine months, right?"

"Indeed, but I am not one to simply sit around and wait. And my aid is not qualified to handle everything—he still makes mistakes, and I will not allow me being with child to cause fault in my work."

"Geez… it's a wonder Ottavio can get you to do anything. I really hope your kid doesn't take after you."

Claudia glanced up briefly, giving a look, "My husband is simply… persuasive. And I should hope my child does get my stubbornness—oh, yes, I know you tease about it—because then they might not be cowed around by you all."

"Ouch! Now that's harsh—we don't cow you around!" Catherine laughed, leaning forward on the desk. "We just want you to take it easy. I know Maria has said the same, although admits she was a busy body until she gave birth. Still, don't stress yourself, alright?"

"Do not worry. Despite your assumptions, I do not solely work. I ensure I receive breaks and eat properly. Mother, Annetta, and my husband all make sure of that, too. Even Ezio has started to nag me some—I take it that is your influence?"

The redhead shrugged, "Maybe. He's just really excited for you, and himself because he gets to be an uncle."

"Well, he could be a father if he would simply find a woman and make her respectable. Although, I admit he has not been as… frivolous as he used to be. I do not think I have seen him romping about with the girls like he used to. I take it that is _also_ your influence?" Claudia replied, looking up with a raised brow and a coy smile.

Catherine narrowed her eyes, "I feel like you're implying something."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Just know Ottavio tells me many things these days. Naturally, of course, being we are husband and wife," the young woman mused, smiling even more-so as she looked back down on her paper.

"…Is that so," the redhead rumbled, watching Claudia closely. Truthfully, she already had a feeling what her friend was getting at, but before she could go ahead and ask, she heard the entrance open. She turned back and spotted the two visitors at once—Mario and Ezio. The former had gone to get the latter to discuss the news they had, which, by the Commander's face, was good. They were cheerful in their quick greetings to Claudia, mostly inquiring of her health, which, she assured them, was perfectly fine, and essentially ordered them to leave her be. They did so with chuckles and retreated to Mario's study where they stood before the Codex page wall, which was nearly a third complete. Leonardo had done a great service translating them all, although the mystery behind it was still just that: a mystery. However, it was one for another time as the older man regarded them.

"You two have done great work here, and it is safe to say the Templars will never infiltrate this place so easily again," he grinned, an expression shared between them all. "However, _Venezia_ is indeed in need of help. What, I cannot say yet, but the Templars _have_ been spotted there. At least Barbarigo has been. Rodrigo apparently returned to _Roma_ to let the Venetian Templars work their plans, but he could return at any time. I lack eyes there, sadly, so it is time for you two to head off, discover their plans, and put an end to them."

"So… it's time—truly?" Ezio inquired almost cautiously.

Mario nodded, "Yes. It is time. I know you have been eager, but I am glad you have been patient. It has been well worth it, but now you may go on. Just remember what this fight is for. Keep an even head."

"Don't worry—I'll be there to help with that," Catherine chuckled, earning a look from the young man beside her. The Commander grinned slightly, but then became somber and pointed a finger at her.

"That applies to you as well, Catherine. You will be far from home, and help will not come easily from here. There are no doubt allies there waiting to be found, but until then, you two will be _on your own_. You cannot afford levity or carelessness. You must protect and watch out for each other at all costs. Most importantly, you must come back alive from this—is that understood?"

The gravity of things finally settled onto the redhead, and her light-hearted look settled. It matched Ezio's seriousness, and they both nodded as such. Mario was right; this was uncharted territory, so to speak, and they didn't know what they were getting into. If they weren't careful, they could easily wind up dead.

"Got it. Do you have any leads on where we should go in _Venezia_? We already know to head to _Forli_ for a ship, but in the city…?" Catherine inquired.

Mario rubbed his chin, "Hmm… the _San Polo _district would be a wise start. There is much to learn from there, although danger as well. But… you are unknown in _Venezia_. You have anonymity to help you. Although, you may not wish to wear the Medici cape—the Templars will not be allies of them."

"I see it will not grant me the freedom as in _Firenze_," Ezio mused somewhat wryly before freeing the cape from his gear. "So… the _San Polo _district… very well. We'll do what we can to secure passage to there."

"I guess we need to leave soon then. I'd say maybe tomorrow? We could stay in _Firenze_ for the night before heading through the mountain pass. We should probably talk to Lorenzo before leaving—and Leonardo, too. They would want to know," Catherine added, earning a nod from the young man.

"Then it is settled. I will send word to have horses and supplies prepared. You would do well to say your farewells—the trip to _Venezia_ can take a month."

"Wait—a _month_? Geez… that does mean we're on our own… wait—oh no, Ezio! Claudia's bound to have her baby when we're there then."

Ezio apparently knew it, too; his face was scrunched with indecision. He had been waiting as eagerly as everyone else for his nephew or niece to arrive, but they had waited longer still to go after the Templars. It was not an easy decision. Mario kept quiet, letting the young man think on it, but Catherine suspected he would urge them go. A part of her would do the same, but she also knew the importance of Claudia's child being born.

Ultimately, Ezio sighed, "We should go… she will understand. We've let the Templars do as they liked there long enough—we need to move as soon as we can."

"You're sure?" she pressed gently.

"Yes… it's best. And we will write. I can always see him when I come back—I'll make it a promise," he smiled, although there was regret there.

"I will send word as soon as the child comes," Mario smiled as well as he came over and grasped his nephew's shoulder and then the redhead's. "I have faith in you both, Ezio, Catherine. I do not doubt you will succeed. Just stay strong, and believe in one another. You are both stronger than you know."

Catherine and Ezio both smiled, grasping the Commander's arm strongly.

"We'll see you soon enough, and we'll bring good news, too," she told him, to which both men nodded.

"Yes, the Templars will not win."

"No, they will not. Now, go. Rest. You have a long journey still ahead of you," Mario spoke, urging them off. The two nodded and turned away to prepare. They had a great deal of farewells to give, after all, and gear to prep. It was as their Commander said—it was a long journey, and if they were going to survive they had to be prepared. Yet, Catherine knew so long as they had each other they could make it. They would stop the Templars, and maybe—just maybe—she would get the answers that had eluded her for so long.

For today, though, they would prepare. Tomorrow, they took the first steps to _Venezia_.

* * *

**44 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap! Catzio is off to Venice next chapter and things will get rolling. A lot of stuff is going to come to a head in the big 'ol city, so get ready! But, for now, the two have a trip to Florence, the mountains, and Forli before that with plenty still to work on._

_Anyways... sooo Claudia and Ottavio are now married and with Jr. on the way! :'D Originally, I didn't have this for Claudia, actually. Mostly because I didn't realize Claudia even had a husband or kids since the game never showed it, buuuut... the book did and the wiki mentions it, so husband and child for our lovely little Auditore! :'D Ezio gets to be an Uncle soon, and technically 'Cat is going to be an aunt, but whatever the case baby Clautavio is on the way!_

_And, of course, we have sooooooome Catzio fluff. Yes, this is all just teasing for a big build up. I PROMISE things will start getting a move on in Venice. Promise ;) Maybe even a little before that, but still stuff is going to happen. Just wait xD It's getting closer! _

_That's about it, m'thinks, so until next update! _


	46. Chase of the Highway

**TMWolf: **_Update time! So we end our montage and come back to normal flow. Not a super long chapter, but it gets things moving and it's time to reunite with some characters and also head to Venice! _

_As usual, how I write canon is based upon my interpretation of it._

_For reviews- thank-you everyone for them! I love getting them and hearing what you have to say, so don't be afraid to drop any questions, comments, critique, and so forth! _

_**xoxo:** Haha glad to be of comedic service ;D_

_So not too much to say right now, but this chapter's song is from Final Fantasy Advent Children's soundtrack - Chase of the Highway. Very fitting for this part of the game ;)_

_Without further ado, though: Chapter 44!_

* * *

**45 **_**– **__The Chase of the Highway_

* * *

**March 2, 1481**

**Florence, Italy**

The air was a little cool, but the sun helped keep the two assassins warm as they ventured through the city, hoods up, although not for any real caution. The city was safe and they were no longer wanted with the enemy blight rid of entirely. It was more so out of habit, and just in case—despite their safety, one could never be too careful and show their face. They moved freely, though, and were able to enjoy a small detour through the grandiose city, which was bustling with life. They visited the Auditore's _Palazzo_, which looked better than it had before, though still remained empty. None had come to occupy it, and perhaps it was better that way. From there they ventured through various shops and monuments, but didn't dally too long; they had a meeting with Lorenzo de Medici, after all.

"Here," Ezio hummed aloud as they turned down an alleyway that brought them before a palatial mansion befitting the ruler of a city such as _Firenze_. She had seen it a few times before already, but she was always awed by its structure and design. She especially loved the gardens in the back, which was to where they made their way. A tall fence surrounded it, with a small archway serving as a door. A pair of guards blocked it, and barred their path with narrowed eyes.

"This is not open to the public. Leave," the man grunted, puffing his chest out slightly. Catherine noted he gave her an odd look, and did not doubt his suspicion was growing.

"We are here to speak with Lord Medici. Ezio Auditore and Catherine Wolfe—tell him; he will know," Ezio smiled pleasantly, with just a touch of humor. The guard made a face as he hesitated, but then ventured into the vernal garden. His partner kept a close eye on them, no doubt wondering what business two people like them could have with their leader. Unfortunately for the two, that was not theirs to know.

The guard returned moments later and motioned them in, "Very well. Lord Medici awaits you."

"Thank-you," the redhead smiled, bowing her head slightly, and slipped in through the gate. Ezio followed right behind, and they spotted the older man instantly near the garden fountain. He spoke with a nobleman, but as soon as he spotted him, he bade the man good-bye. His guest ventured inside while the humble leader greeted them with open arms.

"Welcome, welcome… I trust you are both faring well? You look as much," he smiled, and the two of them chuckled.

"Well, we have finally finished things up, so… yes. We're been doing very well," Catherine grinned, setting her hands on her hips. The man's eyes widened slightly, and his smile did the same.

"So, it is done then? All of it?"

Ezio nodded, "Yes. All the Pazzi and their allies are dead. All of them."

Lorenzo nodded, though his head fell, "I must admit… I have never before believed I could desire the death of others so badly."

"Nor I," Ezio rumbled, looking down as well. Briefly, Catherine nudged him with her elbow as a show of comfort, and he gave her a small smile in return. Lorenzo did his part as well, reaching out to grasp the young man's shoulder warmly, and passed his gaze between them both.

"Ezio. Catherine… thank-you for the role you have played in keeping this dream of mine alive a little longer."

"It has been our honor, my Lord," the young man replied with a bow, which Catherine quickly followed.

"What will you both do now?" the ruler inquired.

Catherine frowned slightly, "We leave for _Venezia_."

"What? You do not mean—!"

"Sadly, yes—the Templars who escaped us have plans for the city. We can only assume they've already begun their plans, and it's time for us to head there," the redhead went on, eyes narrowing.

"Not beautiful _Venezia_… you cannot let it fall into their hands!" the man rasped, gaze turning away as he no doubt imagined the chaos it would cause. He turned back, his gaze firm again. "You must not waste a moment."

"And we do not intend to. We only wished to let you know _Firenze_ and _Toscana_ are now safe," Ezio replied.

"And you have my deepest gratitude. I only wish I could be of aid in _Venezia_, but my power does not reach there."

"It's alright. All we need of you is to keep _Firenze_ safe and the Templars out."

"_That_ I can and _will_ do. I will not allow the tragedy they brought happen again—no more brothers and fathers shall be lost to them," Lorenzo told him, grasping the young man's shoulder warmly yet again, this time out of comfort. Ezio returned it in kind with a gentle squeeze.

"We will make sure _Venezia_ stays safe, too. We promise you that," Catherine added as they parted.

"Then go—and may fortune favor your blades."

Once again the both of them bowed their heads, and then they turned and departed. Again the guards gave them odd looks, but the two paid little mind as they ventured back into the streets, blending into the crowds, and becoming practically invisible.

"So… we need to head through the Apennine Mountains, right? That's the fastest way?" the redhead inquired as they walked, venturing through alleyways.

Ezio nodded, "Yes. It will take us a few days, but we'll reach Forlì soon enough. From there we'll need to sail to _Venezia_. It should only take a week at most, depending on the weather and crew."

"Well, that's good… although it will suck being gone from home so long. We can't just come back so easily now," the redhead hummed with a small frown.

"Sadly, no. We will have to plan accordingly… find some place to make our base of operations. We thankfully have plenty of money to work with, and if we are able to do missions like before… well, the people tend to be charitable."

Catherine chuckled, "That's true, although sometimes I feel bad asking for florins as a reward."

"Hey, we deserve _some_ reward," he chuckled right back. "Anyways, come on; we should hurry and head out to cover as much ground as possible."

"Thankfully it's early… oh! Oh, but wait—we should stop to see Leo. We didn't write to him, and I'd love to get to say good-bye. C'mon, I know you would, too," the redhead spoke quickly, grasping his sleeve and tugging on it with a hopeful look. He glanced over at her and smiled before he laughed lightly, nudging her hand off.

"Alright, alright. You got me. I do want to say farewell, too."

"Uh-huh. Ugh, I'm gunna feel bad telling him we're leaving, though," she pouted slightly, earning a gently nudge from the young man.

"It will be alright. He understands."

"Oh, I know he does; I mean, he doesn't even press for more details than we give so he can stay safe, but still… Leo's our good friend. It's like how we're leaving everyone back home for a while."

Ezio sighed softly, "Don't remind me… but it's for the greater good—to protect them."

"Yeah, so it's worth it, and we'll be able to come back at some point," she mused, to which the young man nodded.

"Indeed… and looks like we're here," Ezio pointed out, gesturing to the familiar building that was Leonardo's workshop. Catherine brightened up at once and trotted a little faster over—much to her companion's bemusement—and rapped loudly on the door before trying to open. It was locked, and she frowned at once. The artist rarely, if ever, left his shop, and he had assistants to run errands and deliveries. Even then, the shop was practically never closed because someone was there, so why was it now?

"Leonardo?" she called out, rapping loudly. Beside her, Ezio frowned, and shouted out the artist's name, too, and even the assistant's, but no one answered. The two looked at one another with concern.

"Excuse me? Are you two looking for Master Leonardo?" a voice called out, and both spun to find an older man—a peddler of some kind—standing at the entryway. When they nodded he smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, but he was commissioned by a Venetian noble to pain some portraits. He paid for the Master to move his entire workshop to _Venezia_. It's quite an opportunity!"

"Indeed it is. Thanks a lot, friend," Ezio nodded to the man, whom nodded back and left. He turned to Catherine then, who laughed a little.

"Talk about coincidence—Leo is heading there, too! I wonder if they call that fate," she snickered.

Ezio shrugged, chuckling as well, "Perhaps. With any luck we may just catch him on the way there. Regardless, it's nice to know we'll have at least one friend there."

"No kidding—especially when we don't really have any Assassin allies to establish there, or at least none we know of. We'll have to hope there's some factions there like here."

"Mario mentioned the factions were probably more wide spread than we thought, so it's possible. We'll just have to look. Anyways, we'll worry about that when we get there—let's head out so we can try and catch Leonardo," the young man grinned, wrapping an arm around Catherine's waist and leading her out from the walkway back to the road.

She raised a brow at him, "Mind the hand now."

"What? I'm just being a proper gentleman escorting his lovely lady companion—hand on her side. Very platonically, if I might add," he mused, smiling oh-so innocently.

"Uh-huh. Just keep it that way, trouble maker," she mused, giving him a slight look.

He assured he would, but, of course, it didn't last long. He was the playful sort—as usual—and soon enough his hand began to inch away from the "platonic" area, and received a smack as punishment. The redhead also made a point to stay out of reach after that, walking faster to the gate they'd come through in the morning. It was, thankfully, not all that far away, and once their horses were returned to them, they headed off.

The mountain trail was perhaps twenty minutes from the city at a smooth trot, during which there wasn't actually much talking. There wasn't much to talk about, Catherine supposed. They had their goal, and knew what to do to reach it. Hopefully their artistic friend would be found along the way, but the redhead kept her excitement on the down low—just in case. They didn't know when he had left, after all. He could very well already be on a ship to _Venezia_, although the notion he would have left without leaving them a letter didn't sit well with the young woman. It wasn't like him. He would have sent them something, so perhaps they had just missed the pigeon. He could have left only a day ago or even hours, and he would no doubt take a carriage. If that was the case, they would catch up soon enough.

"Alright, here's the trail. We'll take it easy on the horses as we go up, and then we can run them once we get to the proper path—it's much flatter up there," Ezio spoke up once they reached the base of the trail, which increased dramatically in slope.

"Right… so have you gone on the trail before?" Catherine inquired as she eased her horse to a walk and urged him up the path. The beast adjusted at once and she leaned forward some to help him out.

The young man nodded, "Not too far, but a little. Father took Federico and I out here a few times when he wasn't too busy—when we were young. He thought it would be a good challenge while we learned to ride."

"He was probably preparing you for when you might travel how we are now."

"Hmm…. I suppose you're right. I never really think about it… but all the free running and fighting—he was training me to be an Assassin," Ezio hummed, tilting his head slightly.

"Well, you certainly turned out to be a good one. You know I always say—."

"—that he would be proud. Don't worry; I believe it now," he chuckled, looking to her. He slipped his hand into his tunic to pull out his family emblem, which glimmered in the sunlight. "I wear it always to remind myself of that."

She grinned, "Good. Now I don't have to keep smacking it into you."

"No, no you don't, for which I am glad," he laughed, returning the necklace to its safe place. He looked back to the path and gestured. "Almost there. See it bending off? We'll find a little house not too far away to give the horses a quick rest."

"Sounds good… although I do not look forward to camping on the ground. I would take the hay in the safe houses over it any day," the redhead chuckled, a sentiment which her companion shared.

"Well, Annetta made sure we had extra blankets, and it's warmer now, so it shouldn't be _too_ bad," he shrugged.

"Hopefully. Eh. We'll deal with it when it comes to," she shrugged right back.

Not much more was said as they reached the top of the trail, and then urged the horses into a trot again. They had a good amount of trail to cover, after all. However, just as Ezio said, they came upon a small house in a large bend not far from where they'd increased their pace. It had a few horses strung about and looked like some kind of waypoint, so to speak, but was empty. That is, except for one unusual guest. It was a decent-sized carriage pulled by two horses, and at the back crouched a very familiar figure tinkering with a wheel. Catherine's demeanor lit up at once, and she was all too happy to dismount near a post where she tied her horse with Ezio doing the same.

"Leo!" she exclaimed, almost unable to believe they had found him so soon. The artist's head shot up and a smile appeared immediately as he stood to embrace her.

"Catherine, Ezio! Oh, it is so good to see you, and what luck!" he laughed before looking to his wheel, which appeared to be missing a few parts. He grinned, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "I, uh… I have run into a bit of trouble."

"Here, let's see if we can help," Ezio smirked as he moved to the side of the carriage, leaning over to look.

"I know _how_ to fix it—but lack the means to do so. If you two could just lift the wagon for me?" their friend inquired.

"Sure thing. Give us a second," the redhead mused as she and Ezio stepped over to the side of the wooden structure, grasped beneath the bottom edge, and lifted. From their spot, it was easy enough to look inside. Catherine recognized the magnificent contraption inside and smirked knowingly, whereas her companion frowned in confusion.

"What is this thing?" he inquired, glancing over at Leonardo. "It looks like a giant bat!"

Without skipping a beat in his work, he replied, "Oh, nothing. Just an idea I have been working on… I could not leave it behind. And… done! Thank-you."

Catherine rolled her eyes as she released the carriage, "Leo, come on. It's more than an idea now, and you know it. You've only been working on it for years now."

"Wait—you know about it? What's it for?" the young man pouted, not unlike a child.

"Well… I should not really talk about," Leonardo mumbled, fingers twiddling.

The redhead raised a brow, hands on her hips, "Just tell him, Leo. I _know_ you want to. Besides, he's going to get all huffy if you don't since _I _know and he doesn't."

"Hey! I will not."

"See? He's already pouting."

Leonardo laughed, lifting his hands in the air, "What the hell, then? She is right—I cannot hold it in anymore! Catherine already knows because she had been secretly helping whenever you visit, but… well… I think I have figured out a way to make a man _fly_!"

The redhead grinned as she watched the artist come closer to Ezio, his eyes wide and bright with the excitement of it. It really was an ingenious idea and he was _so_ close to figuring it out. She only wished she had done more to help than how their friend was making it sound, but she had, at least, helped a little. However, even knowing she had been in on it, the disbelief in Ezio's face and chuckle was all too palpable.

"Is that so?" he hummed, much to Leonardo's disappointment, whose excitement faltered. "Well, when you make it work, let me know."

"Oh, don't mind him, Leo. He's just a 'non-believer'," Catherine mused as she promptly got between him and their friend, essentially shoving him back. The young man huffed only for a moment, and then everyone was smiling again.

"Well, even so it is still an idea, but I hope to complete it soon. Anyways, do not worry over it. Rather, I admit I am curious—I did not think you would have come to find me after I sent the letter. I am touched, truly."

"Uh, well, actually… we left before your letter came apparently. You'll think it's crazy, but we're actually going to _Venezia_, too. We've got… 'work' there. Oh! And congratulations on your commission! You're really moving up, huh?" the redhead exclaimed, taking her friend's hands.

He grinned, squeezing hers, and brushing off her mention of 'work', "Oh, yes, I am very excited! And you are right—I can barely believe it! But perhaps this is good fortune; it is always better to travel with company than alone, and I should be very glad to have you both there with me in the city. Although, how did you know about the commission…?"

"A passerby mention you had left. It's definitely good fortune, though, and perhaps we should get going—cover as much ground as we can before it gets dark," Ezio noted, motioning to the carriage.

"Oh, yes, yes. And, please, join me in the carriage, both of you," Leonardo beamed.

Catherine shrugged at her fellow Assassin, "Sounds good to me."

"Indeed. Just let us gather out supplies and we'll head out. Don't worry—I'll drive."

"Pssh. You sure you won't crash into anything?" Catherine teased, but Ezio only gave her a look before heading over to the horses. She chuckled and then followed after.

It didn't take long to unpack their mounts and then leave them be; they were just general horses they didn't mind "losing" every now and then, and _Monteriggioni _received new ones with each new visitor, so they didn't worry. Thus, they put their supplies into the carriage, and stepped up onto the main seat. Ezio took the reins while Leonardo sat on the opposite side, and Catherine lounged on the roof, with her legs set between them both. With a flick of the reigns, the three departed.

Conversation came quick and easy for the trio, as it always did when they were at his shop. Leonardo spoke of his latest works and of what awaited him in _Venezia_. He mentioned his commissioner and how apparently they had built a workshop for him there. The artist hoped to work on architecture there as he had in _Firenze_, although expected most his time would be occupied with the painting and tinkering with his inventions. He lamented having to leave some in his former workshop, but he had brought his blueprints with him in case inspiration struck. He also made various inquiries about more Codex pages, although they had no more to give him, much to his disappointment. However, he took some delight knowing more might be coming his way in _Venezia_.

The two Assassins like-wise, told him of their adventures they had not gotten to yet, and he was, as usual, enthralled by what they could do. He never pried further than needed—for his safety of course—and he always wished them the best of luck, to be safe, and that they always had sanctuary with him. They thanked him, of course, and then talk ventured into how Claudia would give birth very soon and how the city and everyone was faring. He was especially glad to know Maria was coming around and returning to her former glory; he professed a desire to return to _Monteriggioni_ with them once to see her and give a painting. They both eagerly agreed and hoped he would. Catherine especially enjoyed the thought of her long-time friend staying for perhaps a few weeks, if only to be able to have someone to do art with.

Beyond that, the rest was quiet travel. Catherine even napped for a little as the hours waned on, or took the reins from Ezio so he could stretch and relax. Rest stops were made every so often, but otherwise a great deal of progress was made as they moved along the path. Most of it was easy, although some areas were a bit more treacherous than others. However, they made it through all of the day and as the darkness of night began to settle in they found an opening on the trees and rocks to finally settle for the night. The horses were rested and tied down, while bedding was set out around a fire to where they were all comfortable. Annetta and Leonardo's food was put to good use, and a decent feast was had with more talk and wine to drink. Many hours of merriment passed before it was deemed time to rest.

Catherine and Ezio settled next to one another as they had away from home, and thought nothing of it. It was just what they did, lying back to back on their makeshift bedding, and there was comfort in it. However, their traveling companion could not help but watch with a curious eye and a small smile on his face before he, too, settled for the night.

**-O-**

**March 3, 1481**

**Apennine Mountain Trail, Italy**

"So… Ezio."

The young Assassin looked up briefly from his spot as he rolled up both his and Catherine's gear, the redhead off relieving herself with privacy. He made a sound of acknowledgment as he worked unabated.

Leonardo cleared his throat lightly, "You and Catherine… you are… courting now?"

The young man just about ripped his blanket in half as he blanched. He looked up at the artist, eyes wide with shock. His companion laughed as he stood, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He glanced to where the redhead had gone, and his awkwardness became an unreadable silence. He shook his head a few moments later and chuckled.

"No, Leonardo, we are not courting."

"Yet you slept together?" the artist pressed, almost wryly.

Ezio waved his hand, "Simply… habit. We had to share a bed more often than not during our work in _Toscana_, in part because there was no other bedding, and also because it would be cold. Nothing more, though."

"I see," Leonardo mused, and it was all too obvious he was not convinced. The Assassin only shrugged, though, and continued to pack as Catherine finally returned and tended to the horses; attaching them to the carriage and situating their reins.

"Indeed," Ezio hummed back, glancing over at the redhead briefly before lifting both of their packs and bringing them to the carriage. Leonardo followed right behind and soon hoisted himself up into the seat.

"Well, I'm ready. You guys need to take a quick break, too, or anything?" Catherine inquired as she climbed to the roof and kicked her legs lazily over the side of the seat.

"No, I'd say we're good to go," her fellow Assassin replied as he took his spot, too, and picked up the reins. The artist said much the same, and so they departed once more.

The path was a bit calmer than before, although with the occasional narrow twist and turn, but their horses were well seasoned and Ezio proved his worth as a driver. Again they talked of whatever came to mind. Today, their friend was especially keen on describing the city to them, and his awe of it. He was almost like a child as he explained it all, completely enthralled in what awaited him. However, it was paused as Ezio suddenly grew tense. Catherine noticed and put a hand on Leo's shoulder. The artist looked between them, at first confused, but then worried.

"What? What is it?" he asked much more softly now.

"We're not alone," the young man growled. Catherine frowned, not sure what he was on about, but then—the sound of hooves, and not from their horses. A shout came in the next moment, and the redhead spun around to find two men clad in familiar armor on horseback right on their heels.

"Shit! Ezio, go!" she shouted, already freeing a throwing knife, despite realizing she would probably hit nothing in her position. Ezio didn't need her to tell him twice, and she was glad she had grabbed onto the carriage as the horses suddenly went into a full gallop, lurching her forward some. She kept her grip, though, cursing all the while.

"What has happened? Who are they?!" Leonardo exclaimed, grasping on tight to the carriage, too.

"They're definitely Rodrigo's men—I recognize the armor!" the redhead shouted, keeping a close eye on the two, whom were slowly gaining ground.

"Why? What do they want with us?"

"Duck!" Catherine hollered as she moved—just as an arrow struck not far from where she'd been.

"I think they want us dead," the young man growled and urged the horses faster before motioning with his head to the cargo hold door on the top. "Leonardo! Hide! Catherine, don't let the arrows hit him!"

"Got it! C'mon, Leo. Ezio, just keep it as steady as you can—those guys are going to try and jump on and I'll have to take care of them!" she shouted back, shoving her throwing knife into the wood of the carriage and then gripping the handle. It would serve her better as a way to steady herself when need be.

Ezio glanced back, shouting, "Switch with me—let me handle them!"

"No time! Just keep driving!" she snapped just as one of the guards—a scout, she noted—leaped on. His cohort was right behind him, so she acted quickly. Activating her Hidden Blade, she shot forward to shove it through his neck while the guard remained unsteady. He croaked and fell off, and she almost did the same as she stumbled from the rocking carriage. She managed to keep hold and pushed back to the knife, using it to steady herself. The other man leaped on then, and he was better than his ally. He pulled his own dagger and charged, but she was ready. She blocked the weapon with her Blade, and then promptly struck with her boot to kick him back. His arms flailed rapidly, and the sudden turn in the road threw him off. She saw his head hit poorly, and he did not move for the few seconds she could see him before they curved around yet another bend. Unfortunately, they would not be the last—more horses came charging after.

"Catherine, get back up here! Now!"

The redhead turned her head sharply, and cursed loudly.

The bridge ahead was on fire. She could make out guards as the culprits as she quickly scrambled back into the seat and grasped hold of one of the sides.

"Please tell me we can make it!"

"Just hold on!"

Ezio slapped the reins relentlessly, urging the horses faster and faster. Catherine didn't doubt they were foaming at the mouth by now, and she briefly wondered if they would make the jump at all. Could they even make it? The thing was small and flimsy at best and on _fire_. How could they make it?

"Ezio!" she hissed as they came to the final stretch—there would be no turning back. She got no reply as the young man continued to push the horses, and then they were on the bridge. The fire was hot and the wood beneath them buckled and cracked. It was the end, and she knew it, but the horses leaped anyways to avoid a deathly fall. She didn't know how or why, but somehow that saved them. The wheel hit the ground on the other side and they raced onward. Her heart raced so fast she wasn't sure how it was humanly possible. Then again, she didn't know how it was possible they were still alive, either.

She only wished she could revel in that happiness.

Rodrigo Borgia wanted them deader than anything—a notion that sparked a worrisome thought, but one which she had to push aside for now. More guards came from the outskirts of the trail, and so she scrambled back up to the roof. Again she used the knife to steady herself and waited as the guards came racing. However, more variables came in the form of arrows. She was only so lucky hitting a target moving very fast was hard to hit, but she still worried at some came close—and some were on fire, too. Ezio noticed and, unfortunately, had to swerve hard more than once. Catherine rolled each time and struggled to keep her grip, but she somehow managed.

"Hang on!"

"What do you think I'm doing?!" she barked just as another man came aboard. She stood to face him, but the carriage lurched and she rolled. She managed to grasp onto something—she wasn't sure what at this point—and get up to her knees. She just barely avoided a knife to her gut, although could not avoid a shallow slice into her belly. It stung and her clothes turned red at once, but she ignored it as she brought out both her blades. The man charged forward sloppily thanks to the carriage movement, but then made a sound of surprise as his foot caught. It was Leonardo, reaching through the gaps in the woods. Catherine didn't waste a second—especially not when she saw the glint of metal rise up—and shoved her Blade into the man's gut. He gasped, dropping his knife, and was promptly thrown off.

The Redhead took the moment to test her injury. It stung, but nothing she couldn't handle. She turned her focus back to their attackers, with another coming on board. She growled as she kept low and pulled another throwing knife free. The carriage was evening out as the path did, and so she threw the weapon. It struck where it needed and caused the guard to fall. He rolled a good while and didn't rise right away. To the redhead's relief, no more horses followed. She reached for another dagger when she heard wood creak, but when she turned her head she saw it was only Leonardo emerging from below.

"Are you alright?!" he exclaimed, reaching for her, but she waved him off.

"I'm fine—go back down or sit so you don't fall!" she shouted back.

"No, wait—come up here!" Ezio called out, and the artist quickly obeyed while Catherine moved closer to the seat, grasping the embedded knife to steady herself once more. "Go, Leonardo! They're here for us, not you. Catherine, go with him just in case—I'll catch up later once I lead them away."

"No, I'm sticking with you. We're a team!" the redhead urged as the young man passed the reigns to the artist.

The Assassin grasped her arm, "No. Stay with him. He may need protection, and you're already injured. I will come find you as soon as I'm able. I promise."

She wanted to say no again; to refuse. She even bit her lip in her indecision, but ultimately nodded. Ezio smiled softly, squeezed her arm once more—gently this time—and then he was gone. Catherine watched him go, guards converging in the distance, but then slipped into his spot. Leonardo kept the reigns as they continued on, and she was relieved to find they weren't followed as Ezio had thought they wouldn't. She paid more attention to her wound then, which was still bleeding. It wasn't anything worrisome, so she only made sure to keep pressure by lifting her belt higher and tightening it. It would do until they found a doctor.

"Will he really be alright—and what of you!? There is so much blood!" Leonardo gasped, eyes flicking between her bloodied clothes and the path. He had started to slow the horses to a trot now that were out of danger.

"Don't worry; it's a shallow wound. We'll just find a doctor when we get to the city… and maybe a change of clothes. And don't worry about Ezio—he'll be fine. He's just going to lead the guards away or stop them and then meet us in Forlì"

"You… you are certain?" the artist inquired, looking back, but the young man was long gone from view.

Catherine nodded, "Yeah. He'll be fine. He always is. He's… well, he's actually a better Assassin than me, technically. Sort of. I'm sneakier, but he's stronger. He'll make it."

"If you are sure… We do need to get you to a doctor," Leonardo mused, looking to her wound again. "Does it really not hurt?"

"Oh, it stings, but this isn't the worse injury I've had. Seriously, Leo, don't worry. We're pretty tough. Just, y'know, focus on the road," she chuckled, which seemed to help ease the artist, although she could sense his anxiety. She felt it herself, despite her belief. She couldn't help glancing back once or twice to the path, hoping the young man might be galloping after them, but even as they exited the mountains and emerged into a large clearing with a walled city, he was nowhere to be seen. Catherine didn't lose hope, though. She knew he would come back. He had promised.

'_Just come back safe, Ezio,' _she silently called out as they made it to the main road. Until he did so, though, she had to get better herself, so she set her worries aside to work on finding her that doctor.

* * *

**45 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap for the chapter! Like I said, it's not too long, but some stuff gets going, and some excitement again at last! :'D Also, what are you thinking there when you see them two together, Leo? Hmmm? Hmmmmmmm? I guess we'll find out eventually. Tee hee._

_Anyways, time to head to Forli and off to venice! Some important stuff happens next chapter, which I think you'll all be very happy to read... so get ready ;)_


	47. Warm Water

**TMWolf: **_Woo! Here we go! Chapter 45! Almost wasn't sure I could update this week, but things worked out in the end, so here we go! I originally thought to combine this chapter with the last, but it was just too long, so it made it's own part, which ended up better. Anyways, not much news otherwise, so we'll head to the reviews and what not._

_As usual, how canon characters act is based off my interpretation of the canon._

_For reviews: thank-you soooooooooooooooooo much! I always love hearing what ya'll have to say, and I appreciate all of it. Don't hesitate to ask me any questions or leave any comments about what you do/don't like, or if you find any errors! :)_

**Guest: **_DON'T WORRY IT'S UPDATING TODAY AND UPDATED EVERY OTHER WEEK SO DON'T PANIC XD_

_**Kise-cchi:** Leo is definitely a Catzio fan ;) Ezio is also definitely maturing as he goes, but 'Cat brings out the "bad" in him, ha ha._

_So this chapter is brought to us by Banks - Warm Water. I find the lyrics fit decently to it ;)_

_Without further ado-Chapter 45!_

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**46** – _Warm Water_

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**March 3, 1481**

**Forlì, Italy**

"I am so glad I brought an extra shirt."

Catherine sighed as she looked down at her blue tunic, the dark blue with light blue lines stained almost black from the blood that had seeped out of her flesh wound. The steady stream had finally stopped, although the sting of pain remained. She'd loosened her belt anyways, though, and inspected the damage. It was as shallow as she had hoped, but her clothes would definitely need a thorough washing, or even be thrown out altogether. Luckily, Dia had made plenty of extra clothes for both her and Ezio to choose from to take on their journey. Still, this had been her favorite one.

"I am sure there is a tailor in _Forlì _who can mend it for you," Leonardo spoke up as he slowed the horses to an easy walk. He had kept them at a fast trot not long after Ezio and Borgia's men were out of sight, and didn't dare stop until now—just as the city came into sight. It wasn't all that massive, although the surrounding area was. It also looked rather morose and solemn with its dark skies and unusually flooded land. It looked as if there had been a hurricane or something, although the people there did not look at all perturbed. No, plenty walked through the muddy roads to wherever they were to be.

"Probably… so this is _Forlì_, huh? Where's the boat we'll take?" she inquired, peering in the distance, but not seeing any form of transport or even water deep enough to handle a sailing boat despite the flood water.

Leonardo pointed, "That way. You will see it as we go around. But first let us stop in the city and see a doctor. I know, I know—you say you are alright, but please… ease a friend's concern and have it checked?"

"Alright, alright. I'll do it for you. We need to wait for Ezio, anyways, and I might as well as scope this place out. See if there's anything worth picking up before we head to _Venezia_," the redhead mused, meeting the eyes of whomever stared at her. Again she was reminded this was not home—she looked odd in her get up and weaponry. Not to mention her hair. She often forgot it wasn't an entirely common color in _Italia_, so she might even get looks just for that. Her freckles, too, and whiter skin, although it had darkened over the years. Thankfully most would not keep staring and looked away, but it only confirmed she'd be noticed. She would have to be a little careful then.

"Exactly. I will see about any supplies as well—perhaps a little souvenir since I have yet to travel here."

"It doesn't exactly seem like a popular place to visit."

"Perhaps at the moment, but you will find it has some value."

"I don't doubt it… hopefully there's some in the food. I'm starving now," Catherine huffed as her belly growled.

Leonardo laughed, "I shall not delay us then. Come, let us find you a doctor and tailor, and eat.

The artist urged the horses a little faster, weaving though the crowded streets well enough. He brought the carriage to the nearest draw bridge entrance where a stable was situated not too far away. A few coins was enough to buy them a spot, and, after grabbing her cloak and pack from the back and putting it on, they ventured towards the city's massive walls. Catherine couldn't help noticing a rather displeasing thick smell coming from the water that permeated into the city. Of course, it didn't help there was water _in_ the city as well, although none of the denizens seemed to mind. They didn't seem to care the streets were a touch grimy—and wet—either, and it looked like some of the city had seen better days. It wasn't all bad, though, and it was actually rather lively with plenty of shops and people of all ages and size about.

"Catherine, over here," Leonardo called, pulling the redhead from her gazing. She followed his hand motions and spotted the doctor easily enough, tucked in a little corner that wouldn't be too conspicuous. She made her way over, noting she couldn't gauge the doctor's expression behind his mask, but the slight tilt of his head suggested curiosity.

"May I… help you?" he inquired, gaze flicking down to the blood on her shirt.

"Not a deep wound, but I would like it looked at—if you don't mind?" the redhead replied, curving her lip upwards slyly.

The doctor hummed, "What kind of doctor would I be if I did? Come; I will tend to you inside."

"My thanks," Catherine nodded, then paused to look to her friend. "Just wait here; it shouldn't take long."

"Of course… although, let me see about finding the nearest tailor," Leonardo smiled.

After a pause, she nodded, "Alright, but be careful."

He nodded in return and trotted off. Catherine made her way inside the nearby building with the doctor then. He confirmed what she had thought; the wound wasn't deep, and didn't even need stitches. The man simply applied some salve and gave her a tonic along with bandages, urging her to take it easy. She gave her word—although doubt she would keep it; she would heal soon enough, anyways—and took the time to change her undershirt and tunic top in another room. She lamented how the blue one seemed ruined, but she kept her hopes up as she headed out and found Leonardo waiting for her. He'd found a tailor just down the street, so it was to there they went.

Luckily, the tailor _could_ mend and wash the cloth, although it would take some time. That was fine by her, so she dropped off the material, adjusted her new one, and ventured towards an art stall. It was nothing as fancy as what one could find in the bigger cities, but they had decent pieces available. She had enough coin to purchase one or two, and have them sent to _Monteriggioni_. She decided to splurge on herself a little, too—Claudia had provided them extra out of "generosity", as she put it—to buy some new ink and parchment. Leonardo acquired artistic material himself, noting he had been low on a few colors. He decided to save more of his coin, though, and done with the stall, they headed back to the cart to stow away their things.

"We should go ahead and make for the boat so they can pack our things. I imagine they will leave before the evening," Leonardo mused as he stepped up into the carriage's seat and grabbed the reigns.

"Which way is the dock again?"

"That way—why?"

"I'm going to stick around the city and check it out for anything we might need. That, and Ezio will probably come here to get a view from the tallest point to find out where everything is. It will be easier if I meet him here and then we head to the docks to meet up with you," Catherine explained. She couldn't help noticing he seemed a little disappointed, but ultimately nodded.

"That sounds like a good idea, actually. Will you be alright, though—there are quite a few guards in there…?"

She chuckled, "Don't worry; I'll be fine. Who do you think has kept Ezio's ass safe all these years? As soon as I find him, we'll head over, alright? We'll get there before the boat leaves. Promise."

"I will hold you to it. See you both soon," the artist smiled, and then set the horses off at a walk. Catherine walked him go, pulling her cloak a little tighter and her hood over her head. Not many looks came her way with her figure—and weapons—obscured, although no doubt she did look a little odd in a cloak. As long as it didn't draw much attention from the guards, she didn't mind, and as she strolled past some in the city she found it didn't. Good.

She started to the right, scanning the walls and rooftops as she went. She counted a rather scant amount of forces up top, which was a relief. Archers were a pain in the ass, although she hoped there would not be many of the enemy here. She didn't see red, anyways. In fact, she found some of _their_ allies instead. She could barely believe it at first, but she found a few patches of mercenaries, all of whom seemed to know who she was or at least who she worked for. Some even made mentions of Mario and how they would help if asked—and if paid a little. Surprise hardly covered her reaction, and she made a note to ask their Commander about it later. Then again, she vaguely recalled his mentioning he'd spread their forces out further, but that didn't seem right. _Forlì _was too far from _Firenze_, _Monteriggioni_, or even _San Gimignano_ to be the usual men, so how did they have mercenary allies here? Let alone ones that could recognize her as an Assassin from the symbol on her belt and arm guard? Weren't the Assassins so little known? Even to enemies of their enemy?

She wasn't sure what to think about that, although she was grateful for the help. With any luck, she wouldn't need it. Although, she soon found out that even if she did there was plenty more to be had. Courtesans and Thieves were just as plentiful as the mercenaries and they vouched their aid to her—or rather, the Assassins. They never explicitly called her that, but they would call her "friend" and such, and she knew what it meant. It only made her more and more curious and all sorts of questions and theories came through to her mind. Mostly she wondered if Mario _knew_ about their influence being this far, and if he did—why hide it?

"Why make us think we're on our own?" she wondered aloud as she ventured through the streets, noting the various ways to climb up it. Oh, it was more habit than anything; her wound needed more time to heal. Still, it was always good to know and keep in the back of her mind as she pondered. What would be the point of keeping them in the dark? To teach them a lesson? What kind? How to work on their own? To work without the feeling of safety? She didn't understand, and expected she might not for a while still, so she kept it just out of reach for now, but ready to spring back any moment.

In the meantime, she paused as she came to a wall where posters were displayed. She blinked, surprised for a moment, and then grabbed one. It was a wanted poster—for them. Ezio was the majority, which she honestly hadn't thought would happen so far from _Toscana_. Then again, the Borgia had followed them all the way out here; it wasn't impossible they would send wanted posters, too. However, she was _especially _surprised to find ones of _her_. They didn't have a proper picture, but the writing described a young woman in a hood with weapons, whom could be seen with the Assassin—with Ezio.

_'Well, that's just great,' _she grumbled, noting her obscurity was now ruined. If anything, she was _easier_ to find than Ezio was. After all, how many women carried swords and wore pants these days? She certainly hadn't met many yet. She was pretty sure she could count them on her hands, but of them few carried weapons. No, she was an anomaly, and she supposed she'd only escaped infamy so far because Ezio had made more of the bigger kills and she'd made a point to be more secretive. Regardless, this was troubling and would potentially make things harder. She had hoped they might keep some invisibility away from their home land, but if posters were even here through the mountains, then they might very well be in _Venezia_, too. Joy.

Sighing, the redhead proceeded to tear down the posters of her and Ezio, making sure to rip them up and crumple them into pieces. It seemed she finally had something more to do while she waited for her partner to show; remove their notoriety from this place. She did just that, too; scouring the various alleyways and open areas looking for the thick parchment blotted with the familiar hooded face. There was more than she liked, and she wasn't even sure she'd gotten them all by the time she made it to the center of the town after a thorough search. It would have to do, though, and she was happy to take a small break on a bench beside the church. She kept her hood low as she watched everything; the guards talking amongst themselves or actually working and patrolling; mercenaries brandishing their blades; courtesans flirting and winking; people looking at what goods were for sail or simply strolling about. For all intents and purpose, she could not figure it anything more than a normal city.

Sadly, she did not see Ezio among the crowd. How many hours had it been now, though? It was impossible to tell with such thick, endless cloud cover threatening to rain any moment. Oh, she knew he could make it back safe, but she would worry anyways. It was just how it was, and she cared. She couldn't imagine _not_ having him around. Frankly, the thought of him _not_ there with her was terrifying, and she often wondered if she could continue on doing their work without him. Yet, when she touched her pocket she was reminded his survival was assured: she was sent to protect him. If he needed her help back in the mountains, the Clock would have made her stay. It hadn't, though, so it must be alright. It had to be. _He _had to be.

_'Ugh, there you go getting worked up over him,'_ she groaned, shaking her head and standing once more. Really, her feelings were becoming troublesome. Despite her efforts to push them back, they just returned all the time. She was only so thankful work gave her something _else_ to focus on besides how he made her feel every waking moment.

Sighing again, Catherine glanced up as she heard the sound of an eagle. The dark shape soared overhead, and she noted the bell tower higher still. It was a good look out point—she could probably see most everywhere. Touching her belly gently, she noted the wound didn't hurt beyond a sliver of pressure that would be no more than an annoyance. As such, she was good to climb, and so ventured around to a less noticeable spot, and ran up the wall. It was easy enough to clamber onto the tile roof of the church's open public area, and then to the main tower. That was a tad more difficult to scale, but her training and experience came in handy as she made her way all the way up to the top. Once there, she hefted herself into the bell tower area and leaned against the bricks to peer out at the landscape.

The city was surrounded by what looked more like marsh than proper land until it touched the trees of the base of the mountains. The only open area was the docks, which lead out into the sea. There was a surprisingly small number of ships docked, although she could see a good amount of smaller fishing boats lingering about. There were a few other grandiose buildings further out, but for the most part it was small farm houses and churches. Yet, there were still plenty of people, although it was hard to make them out too clearly. She suspected Ezio would never have such trouble thanks to his Vision, but, of course, she did not possess the gift. She at least hoped to spot a glimpse of white somewhere among the dark, bleak landscape or even the roofs. Yet, there was nothing, and she frowned. She really hoped it hadn't been all that long. There was nothing to be done, though, and so she ventured to the edge.

Peering down, she spotted the large pile of unattended—and unnoticed—hay in a cut out in the walls. Briefly, she considered just climbing back down, but ultimately got onto the ledge. It was much faster, although she hated doing this. She honestly didn't see how Ezio did it so easily—especially because it _did_ hurt a little to land on one's back and have all the air knocked from your lungs. Taking in a deep breath, she took the Leap, though. She curved as was needed, and, having judged it properly, landed in the hay. She grunted at the force of it, and stuck out her tongue as straws got into her mouth. She paused to listen for any talk or sounds of surprise, but when none came she slipped out from the pile, brushed herself off, and headed back out.

She supposed she could keep walking the city, and so made for the outer edge. She would just have to hope Ezio might spot her at some point. Thus, she continued on; steering clear of soldiers, finding any remaining posters, talking to any of the groups for information, noting unusual landscape or good escape routes, or anything else of importance. It all eventually grew tiresome, though, and she contemplated just going to wait with Leonardo instead. It honestly seemed better at this point.

At least, until she got an odd sensation. She didn't get it often, but she liked to call it intuition—a good gut feeling. So far her gut had been right quite a bit, and so she listened. She had felt it before when being pursued and just knew someone was following. Borgia? A suspicious guard? A thief? Something else? She couldn't be sure and knew better than to turn back and look to alert them she did know. As such, she quickly glanced around for an alleyway to gain the advantage. That was easy enough to locate, and so she made a sharp right and then left to head down it. There was another turn to the right, so she took it, unsheathed her hidden blade, and waited. She could hear boots on the cobbles and knew they were right on her. Just another step and—now!

Things happened in a blur. She struck with her blade, intending to make a harmful, though not fatal blow. She needed to see her attacker first, but found it deflected with unusual skill. Before she knew it, her wrist was entrapped and she was spun around so her back was pressed into the near wall. Her other wrist joined the other; pinned to the stone, and she came face to face with a _very_ familiar smirk.

"Come now, is that any way to say hello, kitty-Cat?" Ezio chuckled, cheeky as ever.

Catherine huffed, glaring slightly, "To someone making a point to try and _stalk_ me, yes. Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know. Fending off guards. Stealing a horse. Sightseeing. Getting to know the locals."

"Oh, so what you usual do. Let me guess, you took a particular interest in saving damsels in distress, right?" she mused, brow raised.

"Don't be jealous now—you know you're the only damsel for me."

"I'm hardly in distress."

He hummed playfully, moving a little closer, "Who says I've been saving them? Maybe I'm getting them into trouble."

She could feel his breath on her, and it made her realize how close they were; practically chest to chest, her back to the wall with her arms pinned. Despite her self-control, her heart raced and her mind went to all sorts of places it shouldn't. It would be so easy to kiss him right now. She just had to lean forward and it would be done. She could give in. She prayed he wasn't a mind reader, but she swore he was in the way his smirk widened as he watched her.

"I, ah—," she started, struggling for the words as her cheeks grew hot and red. Somehow she managed to realize how dangerous this was and how stupid she sounded, and it gave her enough to remember how to roll her brandished wrist and free it. She gave him a decent glare as she pointed her blade at his face. "I still have my blade out, you know."

Ezio chuckled as he lifted his hands, stepping back, which let her breathe. Sort of. Her heart was still racing, and she both wished he would have kept her there—kept her pinned and kiss her—but also that he wouldn't do it.

"Sorry, sorry—I couldn't help myself," he snickered, to which she rolled her eyes.

"Of course not. I'm sure _all_ the ladies love you stalking them," she snorted, and then held up her hand when he opened with mouth with a look about it. "Uh-uh. Don't even say anything about that."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

She snorted, "Uh-huh… anyways, I'm glad you're okay, though. You handled the guards alright?"

His cheekiness vanished, replaced with a more somber look as he nodded, "Yes. There weren't many left when I split ways. Thankfully I was able to grab a horse in the farms further along, although it still took me longer than I wanted to get here and find you. Partly because I ended up helping out a few locals—received some extra coins for it. Anyways, where's Leonardo?"

"At the docks. The boat is supposed to leave before sundown, so we thankfully have a good amount of time before then. Or, well, not as much anymore. Oh! By the way, I found wanted posters of us, so we're not as safe as we thought."

"Ah, the ripping was your work then. Well, we'll just have to work around that. _Venezia_ should hopefully be better," he mused, folding his arms.

"Hopefully… anyways, who needed help around here? I haven't seen much… but then again I came right into the city with Leo to fix my clothes… which I need to pick up soon."

He chuckled, "Well, there was something about a man causing issues I had to beat up, and then some cheating husband. They were paying well for it, so I thought the extra coin would be nice. Then there was this one race…"

She raised a brow at his pause, "…Race? Did you lose and now you want to start another cock fight with some thief?"

"What? No! I do not have 'cock fights' with anyone," Ezio pouted, glaring slightly, but then waved it off. "No, it was a woman wanting to win a bet with her friends. She asked me to do a better time on this race than them. So I did."

"Pfft. Of course. Let me guess—she offered more than coin for winning?" Catherine snorted, hating how jealous is sounded and how jealous it actually made her. She had just acted like it was nothing for so long that the words came out naturally, but now she regretted it. She _didn't_ want to know if the woman had—and she especially didn't want to know he'd accepted.

"Well, she did offer a private riding lesson," he smirked, and although she rolled her eyes her cheeks flared and her heart raced again. Of course the woman would have. Any woman who knew what they wanted would offer that to a man that looked like Ezio did. Really, she was only mad she was so much a coward, and she knew it.

"I'm sure it was quite educational," she half-mumbled, rolling her eyes again.

"Ah, there was no need—I am well 'educated' already. I politely declined, so there is no need to be jealous, kitty-Cat," he smirked as he came up beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Please, like you would decline that," Catherine grumbled, and then shrugged his arm off. "And don't call me that. Now, c'mon. Leo's been waiting long enough."

Ezio rolled his eyes with a grin, "Do you really think so little of me?"

"Considering your track record, it's a pretty damn good guess," the redhead quipped right back as she headed out towards the main area.

"Can you not believe me this once? I promise I did not! On my family's honor!" he implored, pressing his hands together and giving her a pitiful face. She eyed him suspiciously for a long while, letting him give that stupidly adorable puppy-dog face of his. She _supposed_ he was telling the truth. He had been rather celibate lately. She couldn't recall a lot of times when he was off with a courtesan or woman. They had been so busy and all, or they were together doing something. He could be telling the truth. Maybe. She wanted to believe it, anyways. She wanted to hope that maybe—just maybe—he did it for her. That there was something there.

She sighed, "Alright, alright. I believe you. Now, come on—we need to go pick up my clothes and head to the dock."

"Ah, actually," Ezio grinned like an imp as he took her arm and directed her down a different path, heading towards an unusual end of the city. "There was something I noticed while looking around for you. Remember those tombs Mario mentioned to us?"

"Yeeeeah… you found, what, two or three of the keys now?"

"Yes, well, I spotted an entrance nearby, and I think it is high time we did one together. You mentioned you would like to once, right?"

"…I do vaguely recall that… why don't I like how you're making it sound like a bad idea?" she inquired, eyes narrowing again.

His grin became even more impish, "Let's find out, shall we?"

"…You're going to force me somehow, aren't you?"

"Well, I will do my best to convince you. Give my best… ah, what did you call it? Puppy face? Yes. That. I'll give you my best that."

"Oh Lord, help me… how do I stand you?" Catherine sighed, shaking her head.

Ezio laughed before suddenly placing a peck on her cheek, "I know you love it."

The redhead balked, but before she could say anything or react, he released her and walked on with yet more laughter. She stared after him, confused and blushing as she touched the spot he'd kissed. She couldn't even muster a proper response as he turned stopped to ask if she was coming. She could only continue to stare for a few moments longer before muttering how he was an idiot and finally following. Her cheeks were hotter than ever as she finally caught up.

"Have I convinced you yet?" he smirked, brow raised.

"Only so I can find a way to trap you in there," she snorted right back.

"Oh come now, it will be fun. Promise."

"_Fiiine_. But it better be fun."

"I promise," he winked and then led them on.

**-O-**

"Don't. Say. Anything."

Ezio sighed as he rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders pitifully, but did as told. Instead of trying to argue his case about how "fun" the tomb was, he instead sat on the crate and let the water dribble off his soaked clothes. Catherine, on the other hand, stood in front of the tailor waiting for her freshly mended, dry clothes, and refused to look at him. She had plenty good reason, too.

All that "fun" they were supposed to have had in the tomb? Needless to say, her partner was a filthy liar who deserved a kick to the rear. It was decidedly _not_ fun having to get soaked to the bone many times in _disgusting—_and undoubtedly _diseased—_water, and then try to climb in wet, heavy gear all over the place. Oh, Ezio made it seem all hunky dory, but it was a pain in the ass, and then there were _guards_ to deal with. All very angry, not-paid-enough-to-do-shit guards who wanted nothing more than to chop their head off because they probably hadn't gotten paid or laid in a week. Obviously not the Assassins' fault, but who better to take out their anger on than two trespassers?

The tomb had most certainly _not_ been pleasant, and she had told Ezio plainly at the end that they were going to have a long discussion over each other's definition of "fun".

At the moment, though, she needed a change of clothes because now her "extra" outfit reeked of the water here and was _still_ soaked, so it felt heavy. She'd replace everything if she could, but she would just have to make do with pretty much everything besides her top. Thankfully, the tailor had finished with the blue tunic and creamy undershirt, both of which were nice and dry and did not smell disgusting. She was all too happy to take it from him, give her utmost thanks, shoot a glare at Ezio, and then find an abandoned alleyway to change. She made sure to use her partner as a guard dog, and made doubly sure he didn't dare turn around and sneak a peek. He was luckily smart enough not to do so, and waited patiently as she finished changing into her dry outfit—although it got damp once she put her also-damp extra gear on—and came to stand beside him.

"Next time you think raiding a tomb is doing to be 'fun', leave me out of it," Catherine hissed coolly at him before heading out back into the street.

Ezio sighed, shoulders still slumped, "I didn't know it would have that much water! And come ooon—you did great! You were a natural in there! And wasn't the treasure worth it? One step closer to that armor and extra coin."

"We smell like shit and piss combined together, and everything else is soaked. At the moment, none of that makes this worth it."

"…Alright, I admit the smell is awful, but it wasn't _all_ bad. It was a good learning experience, right?"

"True. I learned not to trust your judgment," she snorted back, not even missing a beat.

"Catherine…" he half-sighed, half-groaned, looking rather pitiful when she glanced back at him.

She sighed, rolling her eyes, "Okay. It was a _little_ fun. Just a little. Like this much. See it? Super tiny. Miniscule. As in, you can barely see it."

"That will do," he suddenly grinned, cheering up dramatically. "Now, I suppose we've kept Leonardo waiting long enough, haven't we?"

"_You're _the one who wanted to do a tomb detour. But, yes. Let's get going. He's probably worried sick by now. We'll take the north gate—it's closer."

Ezio gave no argument, and the two made their way through the city with ease. Despite there having been wanted posters, they went unmolested and rather unnoticed all the way through and even out into the swampy environment. It was a nice change of pace, although they didn't dare let any levity sink in. Anything could go wrong, after all, and so they focused on making it to the pier where a large caravel was docked. They had a hunch it was their ship, and it was confirmed the moment they saw a figure waving and calling out to them. It was Leonardo, and he happily embraced them both.

"I am so glad to see you are alright, Ezio! We were so worried—or, well, I suppose _I _was really the worried one," he chuckled, grasping the young man's arm warmly. He threw his up a moment later as he chastised himself. "Ah! I cannot believe myself—I have not thanked you yet! You both saved my life!"

"Leonardo, it was nothing. You would have done the same," the young man grinned, but the artist merely bowed his head sheepishly.

"I doubt it. Bravery is, ah, not my strong suit. I owe you both a great debt."

"Please, you don't owe us anything, Leo," Catherine laughed, nudging him gently. "Besides, you've done plenty of favors for us."

"Not nearly as great as this one—please, you must let me repay you somehow!" he implored as he gave them both a pleading look. The two Assassins chuckled as they glanced at one another, but before they could once again assert there was no need, the man further back towards the boat spoke up.

"All aboard! We are leaving within the hour!"

"Ah! That is our ferry. _Venezia_ awaits!" Leonardo beamed with excitement before leading them over to the ramp. They were sorely disappointed to find their pathway barred by the same man calling to board. He gave them an expectant look, but when they did not answer it, he held out his hand. When he noticed their confusion he narrowed his eyes.

"Where are your passes?"

Ezio looked to Catherine, both confused even more now, "What pass?"

"You do not have a pass?" Leonardo inquired, eyes widening.

"You cannot enter _Venezia_ without a pass. Who invited you two?" the man pressed, ever the more suspicious.

"Um… invited?" Catherine inquired, wincing when the man glared.

"Stop! No pass, no entrance!"

"Well, shit," she grumbled under her breath while the three of them turned back to where they'd been. The artist regarded them sorrowfully, but Ezio held up a hand to keep him from speaking.

"Don't worry, Leonardo. We'll come up with something."

"Ah, but I wish I had known—I could have asked for more or—or something! They are not cheap to purchase, and only nobles would have enough influence to sway the ferryman…"

"Well, do we know any nobles here? Or do any need rescuing?" the redhead inquired, and got an amused, raised brow with Ezio. "What? You mentioned there were people needing help around here. Maybe if we helped the right one, they could get us on the ship."

"That's… not a bad idea, actually," the young man grinned before suddenly pausing. He held up a hand for quiet as he listened for a moment. He then laughed and gestured through the deeper marsh where a few "islands" had been made. "Hear that?"

"Help! Do not just stand there! I need help! Oh, God, I beg you! Somebody help me! Help! I am trapped!"

"Oh, good grief—a damsel in distress. _Really_?" the redhead groaned, rolling her eyes.

"It could be a noblewoman—she might be able to help. You were the one who suggested to," the young man snickered.

"It is not a bad idea… and look—a gondola. You can use that to help her," Leonardo added, motioning to the craft.

Catherine sighed, "Alright, alright. Get going then, Mr. Hero. Go rescue her—sweep her off her feet."

"But won't you get jealous?" he winked playfully as he moved to the stationed craft.

"Oh my God—just go you idiot," she huffed, cheeks warming a little. He flashed a quick grin before he stepped onto the gondola and began to row, leaving her and the artist there. She glanced over at her friend, and he did not bother to hide the mischievous smile on his face. She frowned. "_What_?"

"Oh, nothing. Just… making an observation is all," he chuckled before looking away while she stared suspiciously at him. Just what was he up to? Actually, she didn't want to know. It had to be something bad—for her, that is—if he was trying to hide his smile about it.

Thankfully, the "rescue" mission didn't take long at all, and soon enough the screaming stopped and Ezio returned from around the corner. He wasn't alone, as he'd been successful, and by some stroke of luck the woman _looked_ like a noble for sure. If it was true, then she could possibly help. She certainly look inclined to do so in the way she looked back at her savior, a small smile on her lips as they spoke. Catherine hated admitting the woman was pretty, although looked rather young—around Claudia's age. Maybe hers. She had an air of maturity beyond her years, however, and Ezio seemed to like it. Of course that struck a chord of jealousy in the redhead, but she kept it under heel as her partner helped the woman onto the dock. She met the woman's gaze plainly, making sure to keep it respectful.

"So, what is it I can help you with, Ezio?" the woman hummed, almost at a purr, her tone suggesting quite a few things she could "help" with that only struck the chord harder.

"Well, you see," the young man hummed right back, bringing her hand to his lips to place a small kiss, "my companion and I… are in dire need of a pass to _Venezia_. However, we did not know we would need one, and the ferryman is rather… adamant about barring our passage."

The woman's look sobered some as she lowered her hand, "Ah. I see… well, you are in luck then. Wait but a moment. This will not take long."

She set her eyes—now suddenly quite fierce—onto the ferryman in question and practically stormed her way over. Ezio watched with a slight grin, and Catherine couldn't help feeling a touch of amusement either. The woman certainly reminded her of Claudia, although she doubted the same for her partner. No doubt he found her delightful in other ways, which only served to irritate her again. That, in turn, caused her own self-admonishing to kick in, and exasperate her annoyance. It was a vicious cycle that only grew worse, and she hated how bad it had become. It wasn't like she had any standing to be jealous, anyways—right? Her feelings were just silly make-believe and hope that had no business here.

Right?

As the woman said, it did not take long, and she walked with a rather powerful stride back towards them. She made a point to stop directly in front of Ezio, a warm smile on.

"He will not bother you anymore. I… took care of it."

He bowed his head, "Thank-you, Caterina."

"Perhaps we will see each other again… Should you ever find yourself in the city of _Forlì_, it would be my _pleasure_ to welcome you," she replied, her sweet tone returning. Catherine almost snorted, but kept silent, and instead only noted how the woman seemed to not care she existed. Apparently she saw her as no threat in her path to Ezio. Then again—why would she? It wasn't like there was anything between them.

Ezio stepped closer, that stupid, enticing smile on his face, "I look forward to enjoying your hospitality."

The redhead turned away then, rolling her eyes. She'd seen enough. She knew how he was like this. She didn't doubt he'd pursue the woman any chance they were back here, and she wanted no part of it. She certainly didn't want to see him flirting with others. She didn't need to feel the burn and ache in her chest or how her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

Leonardo accompanied her up to the ship, taking up a spot on the side. He did not say much beyond welcoming her aboard and then watching as she leaned against the rail, her gaze flicking between Ezio and the woman. "Caterina" made her way towards the merchant stalls nearby as Ezio joined them, also leaning against the boat's rail on the other side of Leonardo. The woman paused, though, to look back—right at the young man—before beginning to argue with another man on the docks.

"Be careful, Ezio. Do you know who that was?" the artist inquired. Ezio paused for what felt a little too long, and so Catherine looked. She noted he was watching her, some stupid look on his face.

"My next conquest?" he mused wryly.

She knew it had to be a joke. She could tell he was messing with her, but it still got to her. It still made her stomach churn; made her chest ache; make her cheeks burn all the more. Her jealousy was sufficiently kindled, and she hated herself for feeling this way. She hated the disappointment knowing that he didn't actually feel anything back for her. She hated thinking he was only messing with her and he would gladly run off with anyone else. She hated believing he had lied earlier—that he had had his fun elsewhere already. She hated all of it, because she didn't want any of it to be true.

Leonardo glanced back at her before chuckling, "Ah, I do not think so, Ezio! That is Caterina Sforza, daughter of the Duke of _Milano_. Her husband—."

"_Husband_?"

"Yes!" the artist continued, jabbing a finger at the young man. "Her husband is the Lord of _Forlì_. That woman is as powerful and dangerous as she is young and beautiful."

Ezio glanced to Catherine again as he turned to lean his back against the rail, "Sounds like my kind of lady."

The redhead held back her sharp retort. It wasn't her place. She didn't have the right to call him a pig or an idiot or a jerk for wanting other women. She had no claim to him, no matter how much she wanted it. And, God, did she want the claim_ bad_. The notion frightened her—made her sick to her stomach. Things were becoming dangerous again. She needed to get away—for now. She could never really leave him, but she needed to clear her head right now. It was all too much.

"Catherine? Where are you going?" Leonardo called out when he noticed the young woman heading towards the rear of the boat.

"Just going to look around. You two should go claim a bunk for us. I'll… I'll be down later."

"You're sure?" Ezio inquired, frowning, but the redhead only waved as she went on. She didn't bother to look back as she walked along the side, staring down into the water. She hoped to use it as a means to focus better; to note how the waves moved or how the boat swayed against them. She counted the planks, too, and even the supplies and men on board. Anything to calm herself.

Only, it did little to help. No, she dared to say it didn't help at all, and she found herself leaning on the rail once more, arms folded tight against her. She bit her lip, hoping the physical pain might distract her from the turmoil within, but that, too, did nothing. She remained a mess—one she didn't know how to fix. One she was too afraid to fix, or rather try to. How could she, though, when it was so obvious it couldn't be repaired? Her hopes were stupid, flighty things, and this was not the first time it had been proven. She was just fool enough to think it would change and that it _could_ be true.

Damn her stupidity.

"Catherine."

She flinched, although the voice did not belong to the cause of her agony. Still, she didn't look back or even to the side when her artistic friend came to stand beside her. She knew he was watching her, hoping she would speak, but no words would come. Not even excuses and lies.

Leonardo sighed, "Catherine, what is wrong?"

"Nothing," she finally rasped out, keeping her voice even. "I just went to explore the ship."

"I know that is not true—and so do you. Tell me, what is wrong? Please?"

"Leonardo, it's _nothing_. It's just—stupid stuff. Nothing to worry about. I'm just… I'm stupid."

"Catherine, you are hardly stupid. Please, my friend, tell me what is wrong? Is it Ezio?" he pressed, touching her back. When he saw her flinch at the name he sighed. "It _is_ him. Of course. It is always him—is it not?"

She turned her head towards him, glaring some, "What are you getting at? He's just an idiot. I don't know why I bother expecting anything less of him than like with that—that woman…. Or… no… he's not an idiot. I'm just… I don't… I don't know anymore. I shouldn't even care. He can do whatever he want with whoever he want. We established that. But sometimes he just… he'll act like… and he gets me thinking, but then he goes how he does with that Caterina woman, and I just… I don't know. That's it—I _don't _know anymore. I'm always confused and I'm not sure how to feel, and it—it _hurts _and I don't want it to, but I can't help it, and I hate it. I feel so—so stupid!"

Catherine let out a deep, exasperated sigh as she threw her hands up into the air and then set her elbows on the rail and shoved her face into her palms. She knew Leonardo had meant to make her feel better, but now she just felt worse. She was reminded of all the confusing times; of how he would flirt with her—make her feel like something was there, and the he would go and flirt or do more with someone else; of all their nights together where he made her feel safe and wanted and more; of the times he'd once disappointed her, yet they had become less and less; of the night on her birthday; of the moment in the alleyway. She thought of it all and how it made her chest swell and ache all at once, unable to ever figure out exactly what it wanted.

"You love him."

The redhead shot up at once, eyes wide as she looked to the artist, whom was staring calmly right back. She knew her face had to be red—it was scalding hot once again, anyways—and her heart raced.

The artist smiled gently, seeing her reaction, "You _do_ love him."

"I—what—no—I-I can't. I _can't_," she rasped, shaking her head and taking a step back.

"What do you mean?"

"Jesus, Leo—I _can't_ love him. I can't do that to myself again. I can't knowing I'll just get hurt again. No—no, I don't love him. I _can't_."

"Catherine," her friend called out softly, almost at a whisper, and reached over to touch her shoulders. She shied away at first, but ultimately he was able to grasp them, but she couldn't look at him. Her mind was racing, doing everything it could to deny her feelings. Yet, she knew it was true. She'd known for so long, but had just told herself over and over not to because it would ruin her—just like it was ruining her now. But if Leonardo could see it, then it had to be true, and there was no denying it.

"Oh God… I love him," she said, voice shaking as her eyes grew wet. Sure enough, tears fell and she shoved her face into her hands again. Leonardo pulled her close at once, wrapping his arms properly around her, and she couldn't hold back the flood of emotions anymore. Once again her dam broke and all the truth was laid bare.

She was in love with Ezio. She had been for years—maybe even from the moment they met. How could she not be? He was everything to her. He had been there like no one else, and she wanted him for both his mind and body. She was in so deep, and while it should have made her elated, it instead caused her anguish.

"Catherine, it is alright… this is a good thing," her friend murdered softly, rubbing her back as she started to calm. Oh, her insides were a mess, but she gathered enough control to stop crying and pull away.

"Sorry… about your shirt," she mumbled in reply, noting it looked a little soaked where her face had been.

Leonardo chuckled, "It is a worthy sacrifice for a dear friend.

She somehow chuckled, smiling pathetically, "Still—sorry for just… this. I just… couldn't help it. I've tried to tell myself I didn't all this time, and I've somehow done it, but… it's true. I _love_ him, but… but it hurts. He won't return it. I'm not the kind of woman he'd want—I'm not like the ones he goes for. I hate knowing it, but even then I can't _not_ love him. He's just—he's _Ezio_. Everything about him is… and I can't just leave him, either. I can't just get away. I don't _want_ to be away even though it hurts. And—and I want to tell him all the time, but I'm too scared. I don't want to be rejected again. I'd rather him never know than go through that again."

Catherine rubbed roughly at her eyes, keeping a fresh trail of tears away. Talking about it made it all the more raw, and she could hardly believe she had never told anyone else. She supposed it was only because she'd kept so strong before and steeled herself, but Leonardo had caught her at a vulnerable moment, and she couldn't escape. He had trapped her, and now he saw the torture she put herself through.

"Oh, my dear friend… Ezio has no idea how lucky he is to have a woman like you loving him," Leonardo sighed, reaching up to grasp her shoulders gently. Confusion was evident on her face, causing him to chuckle as he continued, "Do you not see it? What other woman would have stood by his side and supported him for so long? A woman who radiates such beauty in mind and body; diverse in both the physical and artistic crafts? What man would not feel so lucky?"

"I… thanks, Leo… but… but there's no way he feels the same," she replied sadly.

He raised a brow instead, "And how do you know this, hmm?"

"Because he doesn't… he doesn't look at me like the others—the ones he…"

"Hmm… but do you… really wish for him to look at you in such a way? Like he does at courtesans or Caterina?"

"I—well, I… no. I don't," she frowned for a moment before huffing. "But I'd at least like to know if he _wanted_ me."

Leonardo laughed, causing her to flush as he hugged her, "Ah, it seems love makes a fool of _everyone_. You know you only need to tell him how you feel and you will know."

"Wha—no! I can't just tell him something like that!"

"And why not?" he smirked.

"Well, because… because…" she started, faltering as she realized she had no real answer. She huffed, folding her arms over her chest, and the artist laughed some more.

"Do you at least feel better now?" Leonardo smiled, a mischievous glint to his eye. The redhead watched him for a moment, wondering at his game, but then smiled back as she rolled his eyes. Clever fox, he was. He had gotten her to laugh and smile despite having been a mess earlier.

"Geez… thank-you, Leo… what would I do without you, huh? Probably throw myself overboard to not have to die from embarrassment, I guess."

"Ha! Yes, well, please refrain from doing so. I would not like to lose my dear friend… even if she can be quite the fool sometimes. A _stubborn_ fool at that," he chuckled, taking her hands and squeezing them gently.

"Damn right I am."

"Indeed… and since you are better—shall we return to the cabins? Ezio should have our bedding situated."

Catherine paused, thinking, but then shook her head, "No. Not yet. I… I still need to get myself together a bit more."

"Alright… but, Catherine… do not let the opportunity slip by you."

"…I know… I just… I think I can now… maybe… just… not right now. I need a bit more time."

"If you believe so, but… please. Do not let yourself suffer so," Leonardo spoke softly, to which she smiled as such. He embraced her once more after she promised to follow soon enough, and then left her be.

He made his way across the deck to the rooms below, wading through the supplies and fellow passengers to find Ezio situating beds further in the back. It provided some needed privacy he knew would be appreciated—especially the small, make-shift curtain he'd erected in front of the furthest back one, and couldn't help grinning some. It was obviously done for Catherine, and so he sat down on the bed free of armor to watch and wait. Ezio noted his presence, of course, but finished his work before sitting on his own bed and looking at the artist. He glanced to the doorway, too, frowning slightly.

"Where's Catherine?"

"She decided to stay up top—get a bit of fresh air. She feels a little ill. Probably sea sickness. I am sure she will be fine soon enough."

"Ah… so she was… ill," the young man hummed before taking his gauntlet and a towel to start cleaning it.

Leonardo perked a brow, "You… expected something else?"

Ezio paused briefly in his work before continuing, "I… no, it's nothing."

"Ezio…"

"Yes, Leonardo?"

"What are you up to? And I know you are—I have seen when you get that look about you. You have a scheme in mind. It has to do with Catherine, does it not?"

"What is with your questions? You are not usually so curious," the young man inquired right back, setting down his glove to give the artist a wry look.

"Ah, so it is… what is it then? Come now, you can tell me. Do you not trust me?"

The young man half-groaned, half-sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. He did not speak for a few moments, rubbing the back of his head, and then sighed again. He threw up his arms slightly in defeat.

"Alright, alright… I was… trying to make her… jealous."

"You mean with Caterina Sforza? Your flirting?"

"Yes. I thought it would make her jealous."

"You want to make Catherine _jealous_. You realize that is dangerous, no?" Leonardo chuckled, a wide grin on his face. Ezio only rolled his eyes, giving a mumbled "yes, I know" before starting to clean again. The artist's grin became a smirk as he made note of something. "You know, Ezio… I would be jealous myself—to call a woman like Catherine my own mean, if I did not consider her like a sister. You must feel so lucky."

Again, the young man paused, eyes falling, "She is not mine."

"So you have not pursued her then?"

"I… no. Of course I have, but she isn't one who could love a man like me," Ezio sighed, putting his gear down once more. "I cannot just claimher for myself, either."

"Why must you _claim_ her? The way I see it, all she needs is someone to love her—to walk beside her; to be a partner and equal," Leonardo replied, folding his arms. Again the young man grew quiet, and the artist's lip curved upwards. "You love her."

"…Yes. I do," the young man sighed, rubbing his face. "Why do you think I go to such great lengths to make her jealous?"

The artist gave out a half-confused laugh, "…Ezio, you try to make her _jealous_ to do… what exactly?"

"I—well, because that's how it's always worked with other women. I would make them jealous, and they would proclaim their affections. It worked with Cristina and other noble girls and even courtesans! Sometimes I think it's working for her, but then she pulls away, and I can't be sure!"

"I am surprised you have simply not professed your affections yourself."

"I would—normally. But… I don't know. Catherine is… she's different. I don't want to push her away. I… I need her with me."

"Hmm… have you considered that, perhaps, you should approach it differently then?" the artist inquired, earning a confused look from the young man. "You said yourself she is different, so if you wish to know her feelings you cannot court her like you have others, no? Jealousy is obviously not working."

Ezio chuckled, "No, I suppose it's not… although it's amusing when she does get jealous. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should change things."

"Indeed… and do it sooner, rather than later, my friend. You do not want someone to come and win her heart before you," Leonardo grinned playfully, much to the assassin's annoyance. He chuckled a moment later, though, and even nodded. He had to give his friend a curious look, though, gesturing to him.

"You must tell me first, though—when have you become such an expert on such things? Is art not your craft?"

"Ah, but artists are always in tune with the fairer matters of life," the artist chuckled. "That… and… well, let us just call it a 'hunch'."

Ezio again regarded the artist oddly, but said nothing more. Rather, a thoughtful look came about him and remained as he returned to tending to his gear. Leonardo, like-wise, tended to his things, and both were occupied until Catherine finally returned. She professed her weariness, however, and retired to bed. However, she was hardly able to rest—her mind focusing on the young man sleeping but a few feet away from her. She was not alone, either. The young man in question had a mind working just as relentlessly, focusing on the young woman he had discussed only moments ago.

All the while Leonardo lounged on his bed, quite proud of his work, and sure only good could come of this. Indeed, he had a feeling a great many things were about to change for them all.

* * *

**46 **_– End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And so this chapter ends and a LOT of things have finally come to light. You know, I originally didn't intend to write the bit about Ezio from his semi-POV, but I decided to finally have mercy on ya'll and give you answers you've been dying to have._

_So._

_You read right, everyone._

_Ezio loves Catherine. Catherine loves Ezio._

_They just... didn't tell each other xD D'oh!_

_Sorry, it's not that easy, and ya'll gotta wait a bit longer before these two moron get it together. BUT. They do love each other. It's finally been confirmed TEE HEE. Now it's time to finally move these two dorks along in their romance, and things are about to start speeding up, so get ready!_

_But yeah, not much else excitement beyond some progress and things to come. But we do finally now know why Ezio did a lot of what he did. He's been TRYING to make Catherine jealous on PURPOSE. You read that right, too. He's... not the smartest young man, but that's how he's done it with all the ladies. Cat is different, though, sooo... time to change the game. Get ready, Catherine. Easy mode is over and the gloves are coming off ;)_

_Bet ya'll are happy to hear that, though. Anyways, until next update!_


	48. All You Never Say

**TMWolf: **_So for some reason there was an issue with reviews last chapter, but that is finally fixed, so for anyone still wondering-it's all good now! :) Time for another chapter, and we get closer and closer to all the romantic tension coming to blow... oh, and we're in Venice finally so Templars and all. By the way, I took/edited out the end of Act II from last chapter. I've been torn about where to put it, and thought I wanted it there, but I have since decided to move it until after a much more important part. Just fyi xD_

_As usual, how canon characters act is based upon my interpretation of the canon._

_Now for reviews... Um, WOW! Holy crap, guys! So many reviews! You're awesome! And now I see I've been holding back too much on the romance-you've obviously all been dying to see some haha! Seriously, though, thank-you so much for all the reviews! I love hearing what you have to say and how much ya'll love Catzio! ;) So for all those guest reviews..._

**_Guest (1):_**_ Aww thank-you soooooo much! I'm so glad you do! :'D_

**Guest (2): **_Aww, yay! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Ezio is such a little turd. Jealousy does not work how you want with 'Cat, young man! xD Thankfully he might get the hint... maybe. Hopefully lol! And oh my gosh, thank-you! I really appreciate that comment, and you're most welcome for the updates!_

**_Guest (3):_**_Haha, I wonder why it's your favorite? ;) Seems to be many other people's favorite to LOL! I update every other week, by the way! :)_

**_Kise-cchi:_**_ Glad to give you a breather before those finals-I remember how tough they are! And oh my gosh-masterpiece? You're too much! Honestly, you're going to turn me to much, ha ha. Oh, don't worry-BOTH love each other... they just don't know the other does yet, ha ha. As for inspiration... well, truthfully I just... I get writing... and I write. If anything, it's that I made a two week deadline for myself, but usually I just write whatever comes to mind and my fingers go. I call myself a freak of nature sometimes, ha ha. I honestly don't know how I can write so much as I do xD;; Please feel free to keep asking more, though! :) I'm happy to answer questions!_

**_Lils:_**_ Haha, I know right!? He's a life saver, I swear. He's going to help get these two morons together! xD_

_**Minimadison1993: **Hahaha so glad you feel that way! I have to agree-Catzio forever! xD_

**_yassass:_ **_Yep! They finally admitted their feelings... to Leo. So close! xD As for your temporary admirer idea... well, something about that doooooooes come up... so get ready. And, yes, Ezio is the jealous type xD_

**_Zoe:_**_ Well, I did do his POV at the end of the last chapter. Kinda. But specifically from his POV from his thoughts? It's not likely to happen. I prefer to keep 3rd person limited, and this is Catherine's story, not Ezio's. You already know his, but don't worry-everything will come to light soon, and you can see how he feels by his actions Catherine notices and the things he says :)_

_Phew. Finally got those done! xD Thanks again for all those reviews!_

_This chapter title is brought to you by Birdy - All You Never Say. Frankly, I find the lyrics fit veeeerry well for them right now. Pretty much. So, y'know, perfect title for this chapter ;)_

_Anyways, enough prattle from me. Enjoy, guys! xD_

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**47** – _All You Never Say_

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**March 10, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

After a week on the water, the waves moving the ship this way and that, and the rooms below cramped and musty, the freedom of dry land was a reprieve Catherine never thought she could know. She gladly sighed with relief and then stared with awe at the beauty that was _Venezia_—the city on the water. Its buildings were grander than even that of _Firenze_, sporting warmer, more vibrant, and more eclectic taste in colors. Gondolas ran along the outskirts of the cities or through the canals, moved by attentive rowers; some with supplies, others with people. The streets were set with light-colored stone that was kept rather clean, albeit looked wet in a few places—to be expected, of course. Yet, any dampness hardly detracted from the grandiose nature of the place, and the redhead knew she would do a great deal of gaping and ogling as she slowly learned every nook and cranny of the city.

A task, she knew, she would also greatly appreciate—if only as a distraction.

Her discomfort over the last week had not just been from cramped quarters. No, her mind had been flooded with what had gone on between her and Leonardo; her confession to both him and herself; of how she had finally accepted she was in love with Ezio. She supposed she had always known, or at least that it was inevitable she would admit to it, but now that it had happened—now that she could no longer deny it—it was all so different. It shouldn't have been, and she told herself that every night she let herself get lost in the muck of it, but still it was changed. She could no longer look at the young man the same. Any time she did glance his way, her heart raced and she ached to tell him; to not let the chance slip. She would catch him looking, too, and she couldn't help wondering if she didn't need to worry after all, but her cowardice was not yet conquered. Her caution was not yet quieted; it still silently urged her to wait for a sign—to be _sure_.

It had made things a little awkward on the boat, especially when they were so close to each other all the time, but Leonardo had made it bearable. He kept any unusual silence at bay with talk of what was to come. He also gave her consolation when they were alone, and encouragement, but never pushing her. It served to improve her confidence and make her feelings swell even more. Certainly, not only did her heart race when she thought or saw the young man, but her chest would fill with a warmth she only vaguely recalled feeling before. It was love, she realized, and also anxiety—that fear of it being unrequited. She knew she would have to make good on it somehow soon, although not then. Not on the boat.

In _Venezia_, however?

Maybe.

For now, though, the redhead took in the sight of the city before her and behind her as she and the other passengers emerged upon the stone street. She breathed in deeply, and couldn't help noticing there was a stench to the place that was none to pleasant. Her nose scrunched up slightly as she adjusted to it, but then was able to relax some. Still, the remnants lingered, and she only hoped she would become inured by the end of the day. It did little to take away from the beauty of the city, though, and if it bothered her companions, they didn't show it. Leonardo especially seem unaffected as he smiled brightly at the grandeur while he carried some of his things. Men on the boat carried the rest, and the three of them made their way over to where the luggage had been set down.

"So," Ezio hummed, gazing out from under his hood, "this is _Venezia_…"

"It's amazing… and… wait—you've never been then?" Catherine inquired, brow raised, and the young man shook his head. "Huh. Would have thought you had with how you talked like you've been there."

"My father came here before on business, and he described it in such detail it was almost like I had gone with him. Of course, now that I'm here in person… it's definitely far better than he told Federico and I as children," he chuckled as he rest his hands on his hips.

The redhead hummed, "We're going to be busy exploring this place, that's for sure. It's much bigger than _Firenze_ or _San Gimignano_."

"Indeed. I suspect it may take many months to learn it all… and longer still to start setting up safe houses and more. We are on our own here, after all."

"Uff. Don't remind me… we'll need to find trustworthy folk, too… We may have to stay with Leonardo for a while until we can find a place of our own," Catherine rumbled, biting her lip as she looked over at the artist, whom was busy fussing over his things.

"I'm afraid you may right… I do not like putting him in such danger, though…"

"Well, it's not even mid-morning, so we have time to get work… we'll probably need to find the poorer parts of the district and work from there—they're more likely to have the most people to help with and gain their trust," the redhead replied with a thoughtful rub of her chin. She paused a second later, and then hummed. "I wonder if we can't find any groups like back home… I mean, there's bound to be, right?"

Ezio nodded, "I don't doubt it. Every city has the sort, and there's going to be courtesans. Mercenaries may be harder to come by, but the city has a militia. There's bound to be men for hire. _Where _I can't say… but it will be worth looking into. It would be good to have the connections, that's for sure. If we can set them up here… then we can work more like we did back home."

"Then we have a starting point. So that's good."

"Indeed… but first let's help Leonardo with his things. We should let him know a bit of what will be going on, too," he chuckled, gesturing to their friend, still fussing over his things. Catherine nodded, and with a few steps they were beside him. The man glanced up at them only for a split second before fussing again.

"Apologies, my friends, I am simply ensuring everything is as it should be. We did have that one rough night," he chuckled as he adjusted some items in his box.

"That's fine… we just thought we should mention some of our, ah… plans, to you... since you might be involved… a little," the redhead began, twiddling her fingers some. Her words gave the artist pause and he stood up, brow raised.

"'A little'?"

"Kinda like… well, we might…"

"—need to stay with you a few nights—secretly, of course… if you don't mind?" Ezio finished, flashing the redhead a quick grin at her "sheepish" way of doing it. She huffed in return, while Leonardo simply smiled and nodded.

"Of course! I am always happy to help. It will be good to have company before I might get an assistant or apprentice as well," he chuckled. He opened his mouth to continue, but a voice calling out for a "Sir da Vinci" rang out, cutting him off. The trio looked up towards the massive, wooden bridge that connected two parts of the city and was situated perpendicular to a row of buildings. From the walkway between the two structures a man appeared, dressed in rather poofy garbs—certainly more so than Catherine was accustomed to. It had to be the fashion of the city, and it was actually very well made. The man looked older than them, but not too old; his hair was still fully dark, as was his beard. He was all smiles and full of warm greeting as he held out his arms in his approach.

"Welcome! I am Alvise! Sir Dona' has asked that I escort you to the workshop. Are you ready?" he inquired, though paused as he noted the two Assassins. "Ah! I did not realize you had… guests."

_'Geez, don't sound so suspicious of us,' _Catherine snorted silently, and made sure to keep it that way as Leonardo chuckled. She made note how he gave _her_ an especially odd look, too. Yet again, she would have to put more effort into blending in thanks to the "women-don't-really-wear-pants" Renaissance era. She'd make do—it was just yet another minor annoyance.

"Forgive me, they were not originally coming with me, but we met in _Forlì_, and ended up sailing here together. They are indeed my dear friends, though."

The man beamed, "Ah, well, very good then! They are most welcome as well. All the merrier, no? Now, come, come—let me show you the city!"

"Our thanks," Ezio replied, nodding politely, which was returned in kind. With that, they were off.

Alvise sighed happily, "Ah, _Venezia_! What other place is as beautiful, as stable, as perfect! Come, I will show you her wonders!"

Catherine wanted to roll her eyes, although it _would_ be interesting to hear what the city had to offer. Even back home in her time she'd only gone to Italy once on a family vacation, but she had not visited the city on the water. She had wanted to, but it had not been planned for. Now here she was in its _prime_. So, although she thought the Alvise man was trying too hard to sell them something—or at least sounded like he did, which was probably his job—she listened in. At the same time, though, she made note of her surroundings. When she glanced to Ezio, she saw he was doing the same.

"Our first stop: the Rialto Bridge! Behold the elegance with which she spans the Grand Canal! A symbol of Venetian unity and pride!"

'_If only he knew evil men were at work here, trying to destroy that, or at least bastardize it,' _the redhead mused as they continued on, roaming through the streets. She withheld her frown at the odd looks she got, chastising herself now for forgetting her cloak. She would just make do, and held her head high, refusing to seem like she didn't belong. She _did_ belong, after all. Sort of. If anything, she could just say she was a guard for Leonardo. Women warriors weren't impossible—just exceedingly rare. Which, of course, was just as bad, she noted to herself, but it was what it was. She would be ignored as soon as she was gone from their sight.

So instead she focused on how there were a great deal of market stands just about everywhere. Plenty of barrels and crates full of supplies and various other items. A great deal of merchants also lined the streets, along with workers. Most looked dressed well enough, but she spotted some tattered cloth here and there. Even a city so grand and beautiful suffered poverty, and while that was never a good thing to have, it did provide a means to gain them allies. They helped the common man, after all, and if there was poverty there were also thieves. _That_, she had learned from Giuseppe, so there was a high chance they'd find the faction here. Courtesans were also possible here, as they sometimes came to lower end areas, but she wagered they were more common in the nicer spots than the one they were in.

"It's very different from _Firenze_," Ezio hummed softly, so only she could hear as Alvise showed Leonardo a church—San Giacomo di Rialto, he told them.

"No kidding… it's so much more… crowded, I guess is the right word. The buildings seem taller, too."

"More archers as well," he added, gesturing with his head. She followed his line of sight, and, sure enough, two archer loomed overhead. They exchanged words for a few moments before walking off. Catherine looked to the other side and found yet another archer keeping watch for a moment or two and then turned to walk to the other side.

"The rooftops may not be good options to go here," she scowled.

Ezio touched her arm gently, "We'll make do. The streets seem narrower here—we can evade guards. We can also use the waterways if need be."

"That… probably is a good option, although the water smells terrible… God knows how many people have peed in it," she replied, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

"Better than being stabbed or shot, though, no?" the young man snickered before urging her on with a touch to her back. She snorted in reply only and followed after Alvise and Leonardo, the latter of whom was wholly enthralled by it all. She supposed she would be, too, if she were here to paint and not kill powerful, dangerous men. Ah well.

Their guide brought them to one of the larger openings, which ran with a canal on the other side of an archway. A second one was just beyond the small stretch of water, and like the former it was lined with stalls and crates and barrels full of food, clothes, and other supplies. It was cluttered with people as well—obviously a popular marketplace. Sure enough, Alvise called it as such.

"No other city can match the size of _Venezia_'s markets. Be it spices or silk, from near and far, there is… there is…"

Catherine turned to look as the man trailed off, and spotted the guards at once. The hair on the back of her neck lifted and she made a point not to make direct eye contact. It was a normal guard surrounded by three spearman—not a fun combination. Luckily, they seemed more interested in a merchant selling fish to a customer, although the merchant wouldn't agree that was fortunate; especially when the normal guard pulled out his sword.

"You were told to stay home!" he barked, brandishing the weapon. Catherine glared, hand settling on her own blade out of instinct. Ezio did the same, she realized, but also put a hand on her shoulder—silently telling her to stay put. She knew better than to act out, but she didn't like this.

"But the rent is paid! I have every right to sell here!" the merchant exclaimed back, the fear clear on his face.

"Emilio disagrees!" the guard sneered and suddenly slammed his sword down onto the bench, destroying his fish and other wares.

"No! No! Stop! Stop!"

They wouldn't listen, though, and Catherine let out a soft curse. So this was the evil that was seeded throughout the city then? The corruption caused by Emilio Barbarigo? He was forcing simple merchants to lose their profits and drive them out? Force them into ruin? Scumbag.

"Let us continue the tour… elsewhere," Alvise spoke up softly, motioning for them to follow. As much as the redhead would rather stay and teach the guards a lesson, she knew now wasn't the time. She and Ezio didn't need to cause a seen and let everyone know the Assassins were in _Venezia_. If they wanted to get close to the target, they had to refrain from too much violence—at least, the kind that would be noticed.

"Damn… would have liked to at least punch the one with the sword," she grumbled as they continued on, moving distinctly faster through the streets.

Ezio frowned, "I would gladly do more than that… but it will have to wait."

"Unfortunately," Catherine sighed, shaking her head. Her frustration turned to curiosity, though, as Leonardo suddenly deviated from the group, his eye having caught onto something at a vendor in a building. The redhead raised a brow as they approached and watched their friend marvel at a little wooden figurine—a mannequin, she realized; not unlike the ones she'd done still life drawings of back in her High School art classes.

"Look! Is it not amazing?!" he exclaimed, holding it up with such delight he was like a little kid in a candy store. It faltered, though, as he looked at them both pleadingly. "Would you mind buying it for me? I… uh… I left my money with my bags."

Ezio let out a laugh while Catherine grinned, however the young man's amusement was cut short as footsteps rang behind them and he was suddenly jerked forward. He scowled and spun on his heel to jab a finger at the culprit.

"Hey! Mind your step, jerk!" he snapped as the figure—a woman, Catherine realized—paused to turn and look at him. Her gender surprised the redhead, having not seen many other women dressed like men, and certainly not in a thieves' garb. She was rather petite and thin, but not terribly so. Her face held a touch of boyishness to it, but was countered by her dark locks and lashes, and the full lips. That, and her chest was rather distinct in her loosened shirt and scarf. Her eyes shifted between them; taking a quick look, but then she was gone—racing after her fellow thieves.

_'Wait…. Thieves?' _Catherine mused, brows scrunching before she turned to the young man. "Ezio—your purse!"

"My—shit!" he growled, patting his belt and finding that, sure enough, his coin pouch was gone. He cursed again, throwing up his arms.

"Oh dear—did they… did those thieves just steal your coin?" Leonardo inquired sheepishly.

"Dammit. Yes, they did. If I find them—!" the young man barked, fist shaking in the direction the thieves had gone.

Catherine sighed, "_If_ we can… anyways, Leo, here. I have some coin, too. Thankfully the majority is in our packs back with your things."

"Thank-you, my friend, and, Ezio… I am sorry…"

"Don't worry about it—and you, Alvise, was it? Shall we continue? No use standing here," he huffed.

Alvise perked up, "Oh! Yes, of course, and I do apologize for the thieves, Sir. They have been a nuisance lately, but I forgot to tell you… But, ah, yes, right this way. Come, come. There is plenty to make up for it."

"Yeah, right," Ezio scoffed softly, still glaring at the way the thief had gone. He only let it settle when he felt Catherine's hand on his arm as she motioned for him to follow.

"It's fine—we have plenty in our things, and we'll earn more as we work."

He huffed, "I know… but a _thief_ stole from me."

"_Oh, _so you're _butt hurt_," she snickered, earning a confused look as he tried to understand what she meant. It took him a moment, but realization soon dawned on him and his huff became a pout.

"I am not 'butt hurt'!" he sniffed, and Catherine could only laugh, which served to bring a light smile the young man's face, too. It remained there as Alvise continued to lead them through the streets and up a set of stairs upon a short bridge. It was there he stopped and turned to the right, revealing an incredibly grand structure—far more so than everything around it. It was also a pristine white in color and the designs were incredibly intricate. It looked even more like a palace than anything in _Firenze_, and even had a tall, black iron fence around for protection.

"And here we have the _Palazzo della Seta_. Home to Emilio Barbarigo. Normally, I'd suggest a closer look, but with the way things are now…" Alvise began, catching the redhead's attention at once. She glanced to Ezio, whom also cast her a look. So. This was where their target kept held up.

"Why? What's happened?" the young man inquired.

"He's attempting to unify the merchants beneath a single banner. There's been resistance. Some of it violent."

"Violent?" the redhead mused aloud, and she didn't miss the odd look their guide gave her. First because of her attire, and now asking a question? This was going to be a fun stay. Thankfully, the man gave no more of a fuss as he looked between them all while he explained.

"They say they're fighting for the people. For freedom or some such nonsense. Foolish, if you ask me."

_'Yeah, well, we didn't, dick,' _Catherine grumbled silently, though wish to say so aloud. She was thankfully smarter than that, and instead made note of the man approaching the doors of the _Palazzo_—the merchant from before. She couldn't quite make out what was being said, but he was angry, and the guards were jerks; they jabbed him hard enough in the stomach with the butt of their spears to shove him back some. The man shouted yet again, which turned out to be a poor choice. She lamented to see him suddenly grabbed by the guards. She could hear his shouts then, but she could do nothing. She cursed.

"Well, now we know what we're dealing with," Ezio said softly so only she could hear.

"No kidding… those guards look just as corrupt as the Pazzi were… This isn't good."

"It doesn't seem so… but this resistance needs looking into. We may find our allies there."

"Definitely… and if incidents like the one we just saw are fairly common, then I don't think we'll have trouble finding those allies," Catherine added with a thoughtful hum.

"Catherine! Ezio!" Leonardo called out, turning their heads. The artist was not behind them as he had been moments ago, but rather on the other side of the archway, having apparently been pulled away by Alvise. Their friend waved for them to follow, and they did so quickly enough. Their guide took them down an alleyway to the left, bringing them out into an open area with yet more grand buildings. To the right was one that was distinctly out of place. In fact, it reminded her more of their home area with how it was made from red bricks. It also bared a resemblance to Leonardo's workshop. Sure enough, Alvise presented it as such. In fact, they apparently had worked to make it exactly like before. Catherine had to admit she was surprised—the artist must have been more popular than she thought. Certainly far more humble than she recalled, too.

"So, here we are! Exciting, isn't it?" Leonardo smiled once Alvise left with a sweet, flamboyant parting—or at least the redhead thought it was. A little too try-hard for her taste, but she had to admit she was a little biased against him at the moment. He was gone now, though, so she returned her attention to their comrade. He looked between them both, his excitement palpable. "Care to come in?"

"Maybe later," Ezio grinned back.

"Oh, come on, Ezio, can't we take a peak?" Catherine quickly piped up, hopping over to Leonardo's side.

He chuckled, "Catherine, we need to visit the _Palazzo della Seta _and gain audience with Emilio. You can visit Leonardo's shop later—it's just like his old one. Alvise said so."

She pouted, "I _know_, but still…"

"Just come back later for supper, my dear," the artist laughed, earning a hurt look from the redhead. "Oh, come now. Do not give me such sad eyes. You both need to stay here for the night or perhaps a few anyways, no? So you will see it soon enough. Besides, your work is very important."

Catherine sighed dramatically, "Fiiiiiine. We'll see you later then, and bring back anything interesting for you."

"Please do! And be careful!" he beamed, embracing the young woman and then the young man.

"We will—she will make sure of it," Ezio chuckled and then made back the way they'd come. The redhead waved to their friend and was about to follow after when she felt Leonardo's hand squeeze hers.

"Catherine… I know I left you be on the boat, but… you will… be alright, yes?"

The redhead's heart raced a little as she realized what he meant. The talk on the boat—about not wasting her chance. Her confession. She had managed to forget once they'd made landfall because of work, but there would be no escaping it.

She sighed softly, nodding, "I… Yeah, I should be… I think I still need to… well, get a little more brave, but… I'll be alright. Promise."

"Good. Know I will keep pestering you until you do. I am your friend, after all," he smiled slyly as he released her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I know. _Bye_, Leo."

She shook her head with a laugh as she trotted after Ezio, whom had paused in the archway. He raised a curious brow, but she only told him the artist had mentioned to not stay out too late—he wanted help with his flying machine. Not entirely untrue, but certainly a lie. Whether or not her companion could tell, she wasn't sure, but he didn't press, and instead started off.

"I still think you are both crazy with that machine of his," he mused with a wry grin.

"Please, you just have no imagination," she scoffed, lifting her head high.

He waggled his brow, "I believe there are quite a few ladies who would disagree."

"Oh, I'm _sooo_ sure."

"Ah, such doubt. I could easily convince you, you know—if you gave me the chance," he smirked, suddenly brushing his hand along her cheek, and cupping her chin. Catherine's heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flared at once. Okay, maybe she wouldn't be okay.

"Not today," she huffed quickly, instinct causing her to push his hand and stalk away from him quickly. She heard him laugh a little and then his boots scurrying across the ground as he caught up.

"Sorry, sorry—it was just a bit of fun! You know I can't help myself."

"Oh, I know. And I also know you need to work on your tact."

He hummed, giving her a look, "You know, most beautiful women your age aren't so shy about such teases—most have made love, married or not."

"Yeah, well," she began, grumbling some as a flicker of shame went through her, "I'm not like _most_ women."

No, she was quite the opposite and incredibly terrible at dealing with her emotions and flirting and winning a man over and making him only look and want her and keeping him. She was definitely the worst at that.

"You are going to become an old maid who missed on the great experiences of life, you know," he snickered, but it only made that flicker burn all the stronger. She knew she shouldn't, and from anyone else she could have easily brushed it off. He made it hurt, though—made it harder.

She shook her head, "If it's because I can't find a man I can trust with my life and take me as I am, then I'm fine with it."

That's what she told herself, anyways, but sometimes she wasn't so sure. Like now. The thought of being alone like he said terrified her at times. He always made it worse, too—like when he grabbed her hand gently as he did now; how he looked at her so sorrowfully and with what she wanted to think was affection in those dark eyes as he spoke to her softly.

"How can you hope to live such a life?"

"It's not like I want to," she replied, eyes downcast. "But… sometimes you just deal with what life throws at you and move on. It's just how it is, and not everyone gets lucky enough."

He didn't say anything, and she didn't know what to make of it. She looked back at him when she felt his hands tighten some, and she thought there was pity there. She only smiled sadly and pulled her hand away as she shrugged.

"Hey, someone once told me there's always someone out there for everybody… so, who knows? Maybe I'll find them. Maybe I won't, but I guess at least they are out there, right?" she asked, but didn't give him time to answer. She just wanted to get away from this conversation, and so turned back towards the path. "Anyways, come on. We have a job to do."

Ezio waited a long time, watching her silently, before he answered, "Right. Coming."

It didn't take long to find one of the actual entrances to the place, although the _Palazzo_ really was like a palace with a moat—it was completely surrounded by water. The only way into the lavish courtyard was using the bridges, and the outside wall of the area was lined by the metal fence. It had no good footholds so they couldn't sneak in the usual way. Unfortunately, the main entrance was well guarded. There was the one with the spearman the merchant had been dragged into, and the one they kept watch by—casually, of course, to not look too suspicious—had about four guards. They all carried only swords, but they had good armor. They wouldn't be something to trifle with. No, it was going to be trouble getting into this place. And if they somehow managed to just get into the outside yard, getting inside the building itself would be even worse.

"We can handle the guards, and the climb is… oh, that's not good—even I can't make that jump," Ezio frowned, and she followed his line of sight to where there was a thick rim around the building. About a man's height above it was a window sill, but that was way too much of a jump for either of them to do. They would fall and hurt themselves. "We need to find another way…"

"Maybe there's something on the other sides? We could try scouting from the roofs for better—," Catherine began, but was cut short as a chorus of footsteps reached her ears. Both assassins turned just in time to have a crowd of thieves rush by them. Nothing was taken—no "accidental" bumps or anything. In fact, it was the _guards_ that the thieves were focused on and bumped into, catching their attention. The four men shouted and gave chase, and just as they did another thief appeared. This once was familiar, and Catherine realized it was the one from before. It had to be with the dark hair and distinctly female attributes.

"What is she doing?" she asked aloud, keeping back with Ezio. This wasn't a fight they'd started, and they needed to keep a low profile still.

"Wait—isn't that the one who took my coin?" the young man growled, though kept where he was, also watching.

"Ezio, not now—look! She's climbing. She'll never make that jump, though," the redhead mused, and then cursed when arrows suddenly whizzed overhead. "Guess we _definitely_ wouldn't make it up or be able to scout the roofs. Shit, come on, girl…"

"Don't cheer for her! She—wait… Is she… She did it!" Ezio gasped when the female thief lunged up what seemed an impossible length and caught the window sill. She made to jump again, but was waylaid as an arrow struck her leg. Blood splattered the wall as her limb hung loose. Her grip ultimately failed under the pressure of having to bear the full brunt of her weight, and she fell. A roll prevented further injury, but blood was seeping everywhere. The arrow was stuck in her leg, too; the shaft out one end, the tip the other. Somehow she was able to get up and keep going—Catherine could only believe it was the panic and adrenaline running through her veins. Whatever the case, the thief half-ran, half-staggered towards them while arrows still shot at her. In the distance, an alarm was sounded, and soon more guards would come.

"I need your help!" she shouted as she spotted them, stumbling into Ezio as she came upon them.

"You stole my coin!" he growled, although the redhead knew he would still help her, anyways. For one, _she _was going to help—it was obvious they were trying to get into Emilio's home, which meant they had a common enemy. Oh, she didn't know all the details, but that was enough of a start.

"We need to go!"

"You never did apologize—."

"_Now_!" the woman shouted, looking beyond them. Catherine turned, and cursed. Guards. Just two, but there were always more not far behind. She and Ezio could handle them, but the woman could not, and she needed help.

"Where do we go?" the redhead asked, putting a hand on her blade hilt.

The woman looked to her, "The water."

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down!" Ezio replied, looking at the guards again, but the woman suddenly took off.

"Shit. Ezio, let's go!" Catherine barked, tugging at his sleeve as she raced after. The woman was incredibly fast for her hurt leg, but how far could she make it, the redhead wondered? Whatever the case, they were her chauffeurs and the thief would need protection. She could be a future ally, too, so keeping her alive and in good—or at least no worse than she was—health would be beneficial. Although, she was proving a bit of trouble with running off and not giving them much direction to follow behind keeping up with her and her blood trail.

"Guards!" the woman shouted, just as a trio came out from the other side of the palazzo's entryway. Catherine reacted at once, throwing a knife that struck the nearest in the shoulder. She and Ezio converged upon two—one for each—and ended them with a stab to the throat and belly. The third had gone for the woman thief, but the redhead drew her blade and reached just in time to block the weapon. She threw him off balance, giving Ezio the opening to shove his hidden blade into his back.

They barely got a moment to breathe before the woman was racing off, once again not waiting or giving them any indication. On the one hand, Catherine could understand, but on the other it was very frustrating. She only gave Ezio a shared look as such before sheathing their weapons and rushing after the woman. She evidently knew where she was going, and she wasn't going to stop, either; she did not hesitate to knock anyone in her way over as she tore through the streets. She took turns tight and didn't seem to notice the agony that had to be shooting through her leg. At least, until she cursed the archers every now and then and had to grasp her leg as she ran.

More guards came, but they were quickly dealt with. It was thankfully easy to get the upper hand, and with their focus on the thief woman it was a tad easier. Still, it required effort and the woman was losing blood with each stop and exertion of her energy. Catherine expected she wouldn't last much longer, yet they seemed nowhere near where they needed to be, which baffled her. The entire city was floating on water, so where did she mean? It would have been so much easier to know, but the thief refused to tell her if she shouted for answers—the only reply was to hurry up and shut up.

At least, until the woman suddenly began to slow. Ezio and Catherine trotted beside her, and did not fail to notice how pale she was. Her entire leg was stained red now, and she dragged blood with every step. Her gaze was unfocused as she staggered bit by bit forward until, finally, she collapsed. Her energy was spent and the adrenaline that had kept her going was empty. Her breathing was haggard as they crouched beside her, and she looked ready to pass out. Catherine was surprised she hadn't from the beginning.

"Christ, my leg!" she groaned, grasping at it.

"Ezio, hurry—pick her up. You can run faster with her than I can," the redhead urged.

"What of the guards?" he asked, but was already pulling the woman's arm over her head and slipping his arms beneath her. The thief did not resist or put up a fight at all.

"I'll manage, so don't worry—."

"_Rosa_!"

Catherine spun on her heel and found a group of thieves racing towards them. They had knives drawn, though were unsure about whether to attack or not. She decided it was best to just act like they were allies, if only to keep from fighting.

"You! We need help with her. Follow us and help keep the guards away, got it?" she barked, and to her relief they listened and nodded. They were still unsure, but the injured woman—Rosa, the redhead made note of—was important enough to them they didn't resist. Catherine turned to their injured companion. "Can you still lead us?"

"Yes," Rosa rasped and pointed. "Keep following it. There will be a boat with one of us in it. Go!"

"Got it. Let's go!" the redhead shouted for them all to hear and took off at an easy pace. She looked back to make sure Ezio could keep up without jostling the woman, and it seemed to be going alright.

"I suppose now we can finally properly introduce ourselves. I am Ezio, and that is Catherine," she heard the young man say.

Rosa chuckled, "I know."

"What do you mean 'I know'?"

"Not now!" she snapped, back to her hot-headed attitude, which was apparently not fully gone. "Now is not the time for small talk! Or are you blind?!"

"Ezio, keep back!" Catherine barked as she saw guards ahead looking their way. She pointed to the thieves near her. "Get them away from here."

"Got it. Keep her safe—we're counting on you," the young man said and they darted forward. The trio kept back as they watched the group rob the guards, fully catching their attention. Within moments they were chasing after the thieves, clearing the way.

"Alright, let's go," the redhead called, motioning her companions forward.

"At least _one_ of you is competent," Rosa snorted, but her words were weaker now.

"She's always been better at focusing on the task at hand," Ezio chuckled as he increased his pace to keep closer.

"One of us has to," Catherine smirked playfully, but then paused as they rounded a corner. Just barely she caught sight of a figure at an entrance to the canal. He was dressed not unlike Rosa, and near him was a boat. "Rosa, there?"

"Yes, hurry!" the woman nodded, and hurry they did. They luckily had no guards around—for the moment—and so were able to make it to the riverside without trouble. Rosa tried to lean up without much success, "Ugo!"

The thief turned, glaring and brandishing his weapon at once, "What's this?!"

"She's hurt and needs help," Catherine stated, meeting his uncertainty evenly. The thief regarded them for a moment, but ultimately he could see the blood and the pain on Rosa's face and so sheathed his weapon. He to Ezio, holding out his arms.

"Pass her here. We'll go the rest of the way in the boat."

Ezio nodded and stepped closer to transfer the woman, "Careful."

Ugo did just that, stepping down to the craft where a second thief took her next. He set her down gently, but the easy pace was not allowed to last: from across the river an arrow shot by, ricocheting off the wall. All heads turned and found the archer drawing yet another arrow, ready to shoot them properly this time.

"Go! We'll deal with the guards!" Ezio shouted, and the thieves did not waste time. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be simple. There were guards on both sides, and they would soon join in with their fellow man.

"Take that one—I'll head to roofs and go from there!" Catherine shouted back, and didn't wait to see her comrade nod as she darted to the nearby ladder. She shot up and clambered onto the tiled roofs. The archers hadn't noticed her yet, but they would soon enough. For now she made good on her element of surprise and used another throwing knife to hit one in the side. The shock made him stagger and fall off the roof before his ally could catch him. His screams drew attention, and his fellow guard was ready for revenge as he aimed at her. She was able to dodge well enough and descended upon him. He was finished which a quick strike to his throat and a shove off to the waters below. A glance in that direction showed Ezio was doing just as well, so she continued on.

Their thief comrades were going slower than she liked, but on the other hand it gave her the time she needed to go after guard after guard, managing to avoid arrows, but take blade strikes. She was able to cross over to other roofs as need be, and only had one close call where she thought they might hit those in the boat. She made it in time, though, and only managed to suffer a scraped knee and elbow. There were yet more guards, though, so she kept at it.

Catherine paused after one kill to get a scan of things, and at first panicked when she couldn't see Ezio. However, a scream from below and then a flash of white let her know he was fine. She breathed a sigh of relief and then looked for the boat. It had gotten farther ahead than she realized and was turning down a tiny canal. She quickly scanned the roofs above, but there was a lack of guards that way. Good. Their job was done here, so she headed towards where the boat had gone. Couldn't lose their allies now could she?

A yelp escaped her as a hot, needle-like pain shot across the outside of her arm. She grabbed at it on instinct, and knew there was blood. An arrow clattered off the roof tiles and she spun around to find two archers aiming at her. They fired and she had to drop to avoid being shot in the face. She cursed as she scrambled up and made a dead sprint for the edge. There was water all around, so the fall wouldn't kill her—it was just going to hurt like hell, but it was a lot better than being dead. She cursed again when an arrow barely missed, but then she was at the edge, and only just barely noting the pier didn't go out too far and so gave her plenty of room, she leaped off. She cursed louder, already realizing it was a mistake to dive from so high up, but there was no going back.

Time almost seemed to slow as she fell, although she knew the Clock hadn't activated. Yet, the surface of the water seemed to take forever, but when she hit it, she hit hard. Every one of her senses was jolted and knocked the air from her lungs. The shock made her try to suck in a breath, but water came instead. She choked at once, and instinct came to life as she swam for the surface. It was so far away, though, and her head was already heavy and aching. She had nothing in her lungs and her vision was going dark at the edges. Her body felt too heavy, and she knew somewhere in her mind her gear was holding her back. She wasn't going to make it. She could feel a warmth in her pocket; the Clock activating or trying to in her panic, but it couldn't save her from drowning. She had to keep swimming—keep kicking and pulling, but the surface was too far. Too dark. She was losing strength. She couldn't breathe. It was too much. She was drifting down.

A tight grip engulfed her waist, and suddenly she broke the surface. Her lunged sucked in air greedily while at the same time coughing out the water she'd choked on. She clung to whatever held her; whatever moved her through the water. Then she was out of it. Her back hit a hard surface and she turned to throw up the rest of the fluid. She coughed roughly; her chest aching and sparking with sharp pain. A hand hit her back to help, but stopped when she rolled over, gasping for air with eyes squeezed shut. Things still ached, but she could feel hands cup her face. Her ears rang, but she thought she heard a voice shouting out to her. Her eyes shot open and she found a pair of dark ones staring back, wide and full of worry. For a moment, she didn't know who it was. She didn't recognize her helper, but as they kept asking her something—if she was okay, she realized—she understood. It was Ezio. He'd seen her fall. Probably saw her not come up. Dived after her. Saved her.

"I-I'm," she started, but had to suddenly turn to cough up more water. He rubbed her back again, and she groaned as she sat up. "I'm okay. Fuuuuuck that was _not_ one of my better ideas."

"No, it wasn't—I can't believe you did that!" Ezio chuckled, keeping a hold on her arms to help steady her. He frowned, though, when he noticed the wet, red stain on her arm. "You're hurt."

"Yeah—stupid archers got me. Would have shot me if I didn't jump. I thought it was my best bet… until I hit the water… shit, that was awful… but I think I can get up now—help me up?" she asked, holding out her hand for him to take. However, much to her surprise—a pleasant one—she was suddenly embraced. His head buried into her neck, and she grasped at the back of his shirt to steady herself some.

"Shit, don't frighten me like that, Catherine!" he suddenly rasped, clutching her tighter.

Her heart raced a little as she pressed her face into his shoulder, "How could I ever scare you?"

"You went under but didn't come out—I thought I'd lost you," he whispered this time, and at last she understood. Her hope flared as well; to know he feared losing her so much. He cared, didn't he? She dared to let herself think it was as much as she did him, and so pulled him closer. She brought her hand up to stroke the back of his head.

"You won't lose me. I'm here," she replied softly into his ear, and let him hold her there. She held him right on back, stroking his hair. Briefly, she thought she could feel guilty for wanting this—for enjoying this closeness; to have him hold her so tight. To feel his warm breath on her neck; his firm arms wrapped around her. Was it wrong, though? Wasn't this normal? Surely, it was.

He pulled away after what felt forever, but only so he could press his heads to hers, and meet her gaze. It was as if he was making sure she really was there. Her cheeks grew warm as her heart raced yet again. She recalled how this wasn't unlike all those moments before; their bodies close. Their lips even closer. She wanted to close the distance so badly. She wanted to release the emotions she held within her that no longer had a proper seal. Already they squirmed and threatened to be her undoing; screaming and yowling for her to kiss him right then and there. To let him take her; show her all those things she wanted and acted like she didn't; to show her what it was to be loved, because surely he loved her, too? But was it yet time? Could she be sure?

God, they were so close, but he must have sensed it—her hesitation. He increased the distance instead of closing it, and her desire grew to embarrassment. She coughed lightly and looked to where the boat had gone. There was a path not far away.

"We should, uh… catch up to the ones we're supposed to protect, huh?" she chuckled sheepishly. Ezio chuckled as well while he nodded, finally removing his arms from around her and standing. He made sure to help her up slowly, and she was glad to find her legs still worked despite having been jarred during the landing. Only after making sure she was completely alright did he have her begin walking along the pier, and once she was confident enough, they headed off at a jog after their nearly-forgotten companions.

They luckily found the place soon enough with the help of quite a great deal of shouting. It was of a familiar tone, and as they come upon an opening of shoddy, run-down buildings they saw a group of what could only be thieves standing around a table. On said table was none other than their female friend being tended to by an older woman and a man that wasn't nearly as old, but not so young as Ezio, either. He wore all dark colors that matched his even darker hair, although his attire was in far better shape than his cohorts. He was incredibly thin and lanky, and he appeared to hold some affection for Rosa—perhaps a lover or family? Catherine decided on family when the woman cursed him out as she was taken away to one of the buildings around them. Rosa was not happy at all, but she was slowly losing consciousness despite her fiery temperament. Sure enough, her shouts died all together by the time she went inside with the older woman and those carrying her table. The lithe man watched her go, and only turned to regard them when the door closed and they were just steps from him.

"Thank-you," he began, nodding to them both. "Rosa is most dear to me. If I had lost her…"

"I've always had a soft spot for women in distress," Ezio chuckled, looking over to the redhead. She blinked, not sure she actually heard that, but then rolled her eyes with a playful smack.

"So I've heard," the man mused in a way that made them both pause and share an uncertain look. The man's lip curved upward slightly. "Don't look so surprised. We know all about you, Sir Ezio. Lady Catherine. Your work in _Firenze_ and the rest of _Toscana_. Good work, too, if a little unrefined."

"So if you know all about us…" Catherine began.

Ezio finished, "Then you know why we're in _Venezia_?"

"I can guess," the man chuckled, and then suddenly bowed. "And forgive me; I know you both, but you do not know me. I am Antonio. I lead the thieves here, such as Rosa and Ugo, whom you met. You have my thanks for protecting them both."

"Of course," the redhead nodded. So. Antonio. A thief—like La Volpe. She wondered if they knew one another. She didn't doubt it, but then she wondered why the thief master didn't tell them? She already didn't like how the thieves knew all about them so easily. How could word of their work travel so quickly? The Templars wouldn't have talked to these thieves unless he was one of them, but they were fighting a Templar, so that didn't make much sense. Had they spied and heard? But then how would they know so much? Surely they had to be more deeply connected to their ally factions in _Toscana_. Why all the secrecy of it, though? She wished she could ask, but she didn't want to press, and she didn't trust this man yet, and she didn't want to do so hastily.

"And as such, I offer my hospitality, which you seem to be need of," Antonio chuckled, eyes looking them over in the wet state. "I would have you come see me once you are dried and have time—there is something I wish to discuss."

"We might as well do it now and dry later—otherwise we won't be dry for a while," Catherine mused, much to the thief leader's amusement.

"My hospitality does include fresh clothes, but perhaps now would be better. Come then," Antonio grinned, gesturing for them to follow him towards a wooden door to the right. Inside was a rather homely place, lined with decent furniture, a warm hearth with a roaring fire, and a large table where a model of the city was. She recognized a building or two, and noticed he had colored figurines—no doubt to represent their forces. He ignored it in favor for a small table where he prepped a drink and a few cups.

"Can I offer you both anything? Biscotti? A coffee?"

_'Coffee? They have that already?' _the redhead mused silently as Ezio inquired about it. _'Well, definitely not having that.'_

"An interesting concoction, brought to me by a Turk merchant. Here, have a taste," he urged them both. While Ezio took it, Catherine waved her hand. The man raised a brow.

"Er—no thanks. I don't like it."

His brow went higher, "You've had it before?"

"When I was very little," she quickly replied, which actually wasn't a lie. She had tried it as a kid and always hated it—even in college where it was the life blood of students.

"It's a little bitter if you ask me, though. It just seems lacking somehow… I don't know. Have you considered adding sugar maybe? Or milk?"

Antonio shrugged, "I suppose it is something of an acquired taste, but enough about that… for what I wish to discuss…"

The man led them to the table where the city model stood. He gazed down at it, his mind obviously already at work. He was no doubt incredibly intelligent to be able to run the thieves. His eyes roved the display, probably calculating all the moves and all the new information gained from today's events. Catherine watched as he gingerly picked up one of his little figurines, placing it in his other hand and closing his fingers gently around it—as if burying an ally.

"Our failure at the _Palazzo_ will cost us dearly. It will take time to recover. No doubt Emilio will use this pause to strengthen his defenses…," he began, reaching for another figurine. "…and continue his oppression of the district. You may not share out motive, but I know you share our goal."

"Why not gather your forces and try again?" Ezio inquired from the other side.

"To act in haste would only bring more losses. No—we must resupply and draw new plans."

"We can ill afford to sit around and wait…"

"But he's right, Ezio. And we had to wait before—bide our time. It's like that," Catherine piped up, bringing pause to her friend as he considered.

"Indeed, we must wait to attack, but there is still much that can be done. I would ask you both work with us instead!" Antonio added, walking around towards them. "Already my men begin to mend today's wounds. Seek them out. They'll put you to work. The sooner you aid them, the sooner we can strike."

"That sounds like a good idea—build up your forces to match Emilio's. That will give us time to learn the city, as well, and find more and possibly new allies. Not to mention there's bound to be people who need help. If we can make them sympathetic to the cause, the aftermath of the Emilio's death will be easier to deal with," the redhead nodded.

The thief grinned, "Exactly. The people here often look down upon the thieves—consider us rats… but you have a chance to help those Emilio oppresses and open the eyes of others."

"That is essentially what we have done before. Although… I worry how long it might take. We already waited a long while before coming here to make Emilio and his allies complacent—I fear what may happen if we wait too much longer," Ezio rumbled, and Catherine couldn't help but agree a little. His concern was not unfounded; the Templars could make a move at any moment.

"I'm afraid I cannot give a proper answer for that. It could take months or even years—however long is needed for my thieves to be at full strength once more, and for Emilio to be vulnerable again."

"Damn…"

"Damn is right… but I'm guessing we don't have much choice—we can't take him on our own… at least not right now for sure. We _need_ allies—we need the Thieves' help… just as much as they need ours," the redhead mused, meeting Antonio's gaze.

"Right you are, my dear Lady. Thus, I ask you have patience. _Venezia_ is not the same as your home, and I would be honored to give you a safe place, but I cannot afford it if you become a danger to my forces and cause. I wish for us to be allies, but we must work _together_."

Ezio looked to Catherine, whom grasped his bracer with a nod. He nodded back and looked to Antonio.

"Very well. We will help with whatever we can, and we will wait as need be."

"It is the right choice—you will see, and I am honored to call you my allies," the man smiled, opening his arms. He chuckled a moment later, though. "And as my allies, I happily give you a warm place to stay and access to my bath house. It seems you both need it."

"Oh, so you noticed," the redhead mused, flicking a hand so that water came off her glove.

"Indeed… you should go speak with Fontina just down the road. She is in charge of our care and the bath house—the one with the flower carved on her door. She will provide a warm bath and new clothes for you. Let her know you are to have your own place to rest as well; she will prepare it for you and give you want you need. I would suggest your first task, before even helping my men, be to learn the city some, too."

"Don't worry—we already planned on that. And you said it was the house with a flower carved on the door?" Catherine inquired as she stood, and the man nodded.

"Thank-you, Antonio. Together, we will bring down Emilio and stop his oppression," Ezio stated as he held out his hand to the man.

The thief clasped it tightly and then Catherine's as well, "Indeed we will. Now, go, before you are soaked to the bone."

"Too late," Catherine snickered before turning away and heading out the door.

* * *

**47 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap for this chapter! Plenty of excitement and some new developments! Our two Assassins officially join the Thieves, and so they find allies a lot faster than they thought! Plenty of questions come with that, but for now the two are going to take it easy on things and just look around. Also, near death experiences are just perfect for emotional moments :'D When will those two finally confess, though, geez!?_

_Haha, don't worry guys. If you're eager for romance... just you wait. For next chapter. _

_HINT. HINT. HINTY. HINT._

_;D_

_Anyways. So. Yeah. Some changes for the crew and new fun to be had. Next chapter is the one you're going to be waiting for, though. Or, well, one of the ones you're waiting for tee hee ;) Until then!_


	49. A Message

_**TMWolf:** Right. So... I am soooooooooo sorry about the delay, guys-things have been kinda hectic/stressful for me (personally), and I was sick the week before last, so I was just not up for an update last weekend. Again, I apologize, but here's an update for you, and you're going to both love and hate me for it! XP Tee hee!_

_As usual, how canon character act is based off my interpretation of the canon material._

_Also as usual-thank-you sooooooooooooooo much for your reviews! They really mean a lot, and thank-you for your concerns over PM's and reviews and everything! I'm touched you guys were worried! :)_

**_Guest (1):_**_ Sorry for the delay! Here's your update! :'D_

_**Guest (2): **__Oh my gosh, thank-you soooooooo much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! But no need to check every day: I update every other week (unless something like stress or sickness comes up)! :)_

**_Guest (3):_**_ I do love to tease TEE HEE. So glad you loved it, though! Hope you love every word of this one, too! xD_

_**Kise-cchi: **Hehehe well, glad to know I can do romance/drama okay! ;D And yisss yissssssss feel the fluff! xD There is yet more to come! Promise! And more teasing, hee hee. Rosa is really such a badass and I always enjoyed her character. There wasn't ever enough of her *huffs* And Ezio did, indeed, suggest the invention of the latte xD_

**_Laurel:_ **_Hehe yep! So close, but so far! Time to see how close they get this chapter ;)_

_**nematon12: **Awww thanks sooo much! Sorry for the delay on your fix, but here it is! Hope it'll keep you tied over and help with your crazy, too! ;)_

_Right, so that's all done... today's chapter is brought to you by Coldplay's: A Message. Good match lyric and theme-wise... as you'll come to see heehehe_

_Now enjoy!_

* * *

**48 **– _A Message_

* * *

**March 10, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

Catherine sighed with relief as she used the cloth to dry the last of her hair, or at least got it as best as she could. It would be a few hours before it fully dried, but that was good enough, so she wrapped the red locks clumsily in the fabric and then headed for the bed where clothes had been set out for her. Sadly, they weren't her own, but rather "donations" from the Thieves Guild since their luggage was still at Leonardo's. It was to be procured soon, but for now, her odd, tattered leggings, vest, and undershirt would do. She was only so thankful she got to keep her boots and gloves, otherwise she was going to feel completely naked. Fontina had kidnapped every other part of her wardrobe, after all—determined to clean even the armor. At least Ezio had been forced into the same treatment, and the redhead had a feeling he would look even more hilarious than she would in the get up.

"Hopefully it fits," she hummed as she held the vest up and then turned towards the vanity mirror in the room, sizing it up slightly. She paused, though, when she looked at her reflection and a notion came to mind. She bit her lip slightly; not one to really give in to such indulgences, but she'd never really given herself the chance. So why not?

Letting out a deep breath of air, Catherine set the cloth aside and ventured closer to the mirror. There, she gazed at the visage of a young woman, still in her prime. She was only twenty-four, after all. Her physique reflected it as well. Her frame was firm and toned with hard muscles forged over the long years of training, and her belly was tight and flat. She knew for a fact she would be considered fit and attractive in her time. Although, she had to note her chest was rather lacking, but she supposed that wasn't so bad. She could see the weathering, too, however; the burden of the life she'd committed to. Gently, she touched at the scar on her collar. It was so old now; a light pink against the tanner flesh. Other scars lined along the edges—one on her arm from the Pazzi's attack on the Medici; another on her leg; one across her belly from their journey to Forli; other, minor ones that took a keen eye to find. They were there, though, and she knew those were not the hallmark of a woman who had seen much battle—that is, a woman who did not look much like a "proper" woman at all.

"But… he doesn't care about that," she mumbled aloud, and was surprised she had. She then became surprised to be surprised, and shook her head to clear away the jumble. Although, there had to be merit to it. If Ezio didn't like women who didn't act like what was supposed to be a proper women, then why would he flirt with her? Why would he make her think he loved her? So, surely he did. He had to.

She was going to find out soon enough, anyways. She had told herself—and Leonardo—she would tell Ezio the truth about her feelings, and she always did what she could to keep her word. Besides, it would be better if she said something. She could finally stop living in the anguish of not knowing and move on when he rejected her.

_'Or… be… extremely happy,' _she added quietly as she retrieved the vest and undershirt and slipped them on. Luckily, they fit, and so, too, did the pants. It would do, and once she grabbed her hat on the way out, she finally left the room she'd been given for privacy.

The home belonged to Fontina, although they would be given their own quarters some time later that day. It was a small place, but made homely and filled with wonderful smells. The woman who owned it was apparently the "mother hen" for the Thieves Guild, and she provided clothes, food, and more. All were grateful for her help, and Catherine could see why. She was like Annetta back home, although much older and more likely to say a biting rejoinder to put saucy young men who were called Ezio in their place.

Speaking of, the troublemaker in question was lounging rather comfortable on a couch in the main room, although he did sit up once he noticed her coming through the hallway. Like her, he'd taken a bath to be rid of the water's smell, although it lingered. Still, it wasn't as bad, although it helped he looked as amusing as Catherine hoped he would in his borrowed clothes. He pouted when he noticed her grinning and leaned back with a huff.

"Yes, yes, I _know_ they don't fit perfectly."

She laughed as she plopped down beside him, "Oh, don't be so upset. You look… mostly… adorable?"

"Your pauses say otherwise."

"Alright, you look silly, but that's not so bad," she snickered some more, earning an eye roll. He smiled a moment later, though, and raised a brow at her.

"I admit, I was hoping Fontina might have given you a dress."

"Please, like I'd wear a dress. Willingly, anyways."

"Ah, the key word. Shame—you do look good in them."

"Maybe, but I don't like them. They're not… me, or… whatever," she hummed, waving her hand in an obscure gesture.

Ezio hummed, "Do… many women think like you? From your time, I mean?"

"Huh? Oh! Umm… hmm… yes… and no? I mean, there _are_ plenty that do, but… I didn't personally know a lot. I was… kinda the only one of my friends or acquaintances who didn't want to wear them at all or felt _weird_ wearing them. Everyone else didn't mind, but maybe just didn't wear them or something. But they didn't feel weird like I did. Ugh, it was always so hard to explain. I got so many confused looks all the time, but geez. Not like I was breaking the law by hating to wear dresses," the redhead grumbled, folding her arms as she shook her head. Ezio was quiet for a bit as she recalled the memories—the annoyances of having to deal with that. It wasn't terrible, just mildly bothersome. Still, it had been a frustration in life.

"Was it… hard? Them not understanding?" he inquired, somewhat cautious.

She glanced over at him, arms falling back down to her side, "Um… well, no… not hard… I guess just… lonely? I don't know. I mostly ignored it and just did my thing… but, well… I guess it did make me wonder what was wrong with being different?"

Ezio smiled softly as he suddenly reached over and squeezed her hand, "Nothing's wrong with it. Frankly, I quite like different."

Catherine's heart fluttered a little as she flushed. God, how was he always able to do that so easily—get her so excited and nervous? It wasn't fair.

"Well, good. Because I definitely am… and, uh, sorry about the sudden rant. Kinda just… came out," she chuckled sheepishly.

"It's fine—I don't mind sharing any burden you have."

"It's not so much a burden—more a frustration," she smiled in kind. "But even if it was, I still prefer not to place my burdens on people."

"Why not? You trust me, don't you?" he inquired, squeezing again. She noted he had yet to let go, exciting her a little more for a moment before she forced herself to calm down.

"I…" she began, but then paused. Her eyes fell as she smiled a bit sadly. "I do trust you… it's just… well, I guess… I've always been so used to _not_ telling people how I feel. To be honest, I've told you more things than I've ever told anyone. Anyone else, and I just… I always feel like—like they didn't care enough—that they wouldn't understand or try to. And a lot of times it _did_ feel that way so… so I just… _stopped_. I stopped talking about how I felt or what bothered me just to pretend—that they did care. I guess.

The redhead shrugged, but the sad smile remained as she chuckled a moment later, "Kinda pathetic, huh?"

"No—not pathetic… just lonely," Ezio replied, and when she turned her head to look at him, she found that same look from before—the one on the pier when he'd thought she'd die. That same concern she swore held love within in it. He brought her hand up a little, and grasped it with both of his own. "It doesn't have to be that way anymore, you know."

"You're sure you won't mind a woman who doesn't like dresses?" she asked almost cautiously.

He chuckled, "No."

"And you'll try to understand?"

"Of course."

"You'll share my burdens? Even the dumb ones?"

"Even the dumb ones," he smiled as he placed a gentle kiss on her hand.

Her heart was hammering so fast, she could feel the reverberations throughout her whole body. She dared to say even _Ezio_ could feel them through her palm and fingertips. It was a little hard to breathe, too, she realized, and even harder to think straight. Her skin tingled where he'd placed his lips, and the warmth from it was already flooded through her. Of course, her cheeks had been on fire from the get go, and now they were like the sun. There was no stopping it, and any screams of caution were suddenly quieted by reassurance—by the way he looked at her. It had to be love there. He _had_ to care for her. He had to. She had to say something now, while she had her courage. While she was still sure.

"Ezio," she began, eyes dropping briefly as she bit her lip, trying to find the best way to say it, which was silly, really. It was just three words, and yet—it was so much more.

"Yes?" he called back, watching her with such a gentle smile as he kept holding her hand.

"I, ah… um…" she tried, struggling, and felt foolish for it. God, it should have been so easy, and so she forced herself to look up at him—to push away her hesitance. "I…"

"Ah, so you two are here after all."

Catherine couldn't help it; she jumped, and snatched her hand back. Her heart raced and cheeks burned with embarrassment now, and she noted Ezio silently groaning by his shoulders slump and eye roll.

Fontina had wonderful timing.

"Yeah, we finished up. Thank-you for the clothes, by the way—and hospitality," the redhead managed to chuckle, still full of embarrassment. She noted the woman glanced between them and Catherine swore she saw her lips twitch upwards.

"Of course, my dears. Now, your luggage will be here soon, but until then what you have on will have to do. Your things are still drying. We've almost got your house set up if you don't mind waiting a bit longer," the woman replied, setting her hands onto her hips.

"Ah, no—that's alright. We meant to go explore the city, anyways, so it's no trouble," Ezio smiled, suddenly standing up and holding his out to the redhead. She raised a brow—although they _did_ actually plan that—and took his hand to let him help her up.

The older woman nodded, "Well, I won't keep you then. Mind you, stay in this district—the others aren't so kind to those dressed like we are."

"We should keep our weapons on us then—you have them?" Catherine inquired, and the women turned to a chest not far behind her. From it she pulled their Hidden Blade bracers, which they were all too happy to equip. They were given a few daggers and throwing knives as well, although left their swords. Those would be a little too "ostentatious" for a thief.

"There you go. Now, go on. The district ain't the biggest, but it's by no means small. Best you learn every nook and cranny like we do if you're to help us. Can't have you lagging here, after all," Fontina smirked, motioning them towards the door.

"No, we can't have that. You have our thanks, my lady," Ezio replied, almost purring as if to woo her when he took her hand. She pulled it free and waggled a finger at him before he could kiss it, though.

"Ah, ah. Don't you try to sweeten me up, young man. Get your lazy ass to work."

"As you command," the young man laughed, shaking his head. Catherine, meanwhile, rolled her eyes with a chuckle as she led the way outside. Once there, she adjusted her hat briefly to hide her locks a bit better, and then turned towards her companion.

"So… where to first?"

"Not sure… how about we just… walk around? See where things take us?" he smiled, pointing towards the main exit.

She grinned, "Sounds good to me."

With any luck, she might find the right moment to talk to him again, but not now. No, it was time to work, and the excitement from earlier was firmly quelled. The mood was made to be more serious and focused as it had been on their tour with Leonardo. They had a city to learn, although they weren't too concerned on discerning every _single_ detail just yet. They had time for that, but it was good to at least know the streets and where their new thief companions dwelled.

As such, they ventured throughout the city, acting as though they'd always belonged. Catherine was amused to find she still received looks, but they weren't ones of bafflement or as if she were _strange_. Rather, they seemed to be looks of contempt and scorn—some even turned their nose up at her. Them, to be exact. The city saw them as worthless thieves, and her being a woman didn't seem to make a difference. _That_ was a fun fact to note, and one she took some relief in. She felt a lesser need to worry about her feminine figure showing in the tighter clothing and attracting the wrong attention, which allowed her to focus more.

With such focus she made note of various buildings and their architecture. There were plenty of grips and footholds on each, which would aid in escapes. There were countless alleyways, too, and some led to either piers of open water or to the canals throughout the city. Any would provide a good escape, although they would smell terrible later. However, a foul odor was better than death in the end, so they kept a mental note of where the escape routes were. Of course, they did more than escapes; they made note of the enemy as well. Thus far the streets weren't terribly cluttered with guards, but there were greater numbers than in Forli and _San Gimignano_. Perhaps not as much as _Firenze_, but they were better equipped, and thus more dangerous. They were also more violent.

It wasn't long during their second "tour" they came across a group of guards harassing some merchant. Again they tore up their stand and even manhandles the poor man, just about scaring him to death. They certainly had destroyed his business, and it took considerable effort not to take them out. They were only reminded not to do so by their lack of gear, and their need to remain in secrecy, and so let it happen. Catherine still grit her teeth with a scowl, and she could sense Ezio tense beside her. It was disgusting how low and corrupted the guards were here—a testament to the great deal of work to be done.

"Damn. I want to go after them and take them out so bad," the redhead sighed with a shake of her head as they watched the men disappear over a bridge.

"As do I… but I do not think Antonio would agree. We should make sure he'll be alright with us taking them out when not a last resort," Ezio sighed as well, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah… man, it's weird thinking how we're not calling the shots. I mean, we would take missions from Lorenzo or Mario, but we acted on our own authority, really. Guess we'll have to get used to things being like how it was during training."

The young man shrugged, "A little. It will be good to have direction here, however. This is Antonio's territory—he's been at it longer here, so we're not going to be starting completely from scratch."

"That's true—and a good point. Well, we'll come to it when we get there. Let's keep moving. We still have a lot to see here," the redhead mused, moving to head off, but paused when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She turned, brow raised, and found him grinning. He pointed to a vendor, and on the table she saw various types of bread. She turned back to him, grinning, "Treat time?"

"Treat time," he chuckled, pulling out his extra bag of coins and heading over.

The merchant had been rather dubious about them at first, but once he realized the coin was very much so real, he was happy to partake despite their ragged appearance. Catherine thought the sweet bread was over-priced—no doubt he thought he could swindle them due to their thief-like clothing—but they bought it nonetheless. It wasn't as if they were starving for coin, and the bread _was_ good once she took a bite.

"Huh. It's actually a lot like the kind back home," she mused as she nibbled on it, and Ezio hummed with agreement.

"It _is_," the young man smiled as he took another bite. "Have to say, I'm glad it does, although now I'm missing home even more."

"We'll have time to go back at some point. This is going to be a long game, and we'll want a break eventually. I'm sure we'll need to leave just for our faces to be forgotten, too. Although, really, if anything, it'll be because Antonio is tired of having us around," the redhead laughed, and Ezio joined her.

"I imagine it will be the last one—we are rather insufferable, no?"

"Well, _you_ are."

"Come now, you're no saint. But I do hope we not stay away too long… I want to see my nephew—or niece soon."

Catherine paused, glancing at Ezio and saw the regret in his features, "I'm sure it will be fine… and Claudia will send a letter about how healthy the baby is and everything. Then we can go see them as soon as we're back. Is she going to have to beat you away from her kid?"

"Perhaps," the young man smirked. "I'm excited for her. And excited to meet the little one. I admit, I never thought I would be, but… thinking of how she's starting her own family… how we're growing again…"

"The Auditore's are still strong," the redhead smiled in reply. Ezio glanced over and smiled, too, as he nodded.

"Still strong. And to be stronger still. Although, we may be in trouble if it's a girl—no doubt she'll take after her mother."

She laughed, "Oh no! We can't handle _two_ Claudias! Whatever will Ottavio do? What will the city do?"

"Pray it's a boy," the young man snickered, brow waggling, and got another laugh from Catherine. He chuckled in kind before scaring down the rest of the bread. "Alright, come on then; time to continue scouting."

"Sounds good," she nodded as she finished her own treat and followed at his side.

They ventured further through the twists and turns of the city on the far side, and found it was populated by a somewhat different sort. Clothes were less fashionable, but not awful, either. The walls weren't quite as lavish nor were the goods, although they were still of fine quality. They also noted they found a lot more thieves, and soon realized they were close to the Thieves Den—the poorer edge of the district. If they sought refuge or a way to escape, this would be the place. They could call on the various group of thieves—some even nodded in their direction already, and Catherine recognized them from earlier—and then either scale the walls or fly into some alleyway and into the crowds. That would be essential as they started their work here, of which they could hopefully get to tonight or tomorrow.

"This district isn't all that large, it seems," Ezio mused as they came around the port they'd arrived in. Their ship was gone, and their luggage was not where they had left it, either. It would hopefully already be at their new "home" by the time they returned, but they expected to be out for a bit longer—there was plenty of sun left, after all.

"I saw a map at one point while we walked—seems to be about five or six districts to explore, and this is just about the smallest. There may be one smaller, but it definitely won't take us that much longer to finish exploring. Well, the ground, anyways. We should head up top at some point," Catherine replied, glancing up at the rooftops. "This won't be a bad spot to do so, either—look. Not many archers."

He scanned the roofs, too, "Hmm… you're right. We should hold off taking out too many of them just yet, though—make it a last resort. Too many gone would alert Emilio."

"Yeah, good point. Well, we don't need to just yet, so let's double back and make sure we covered everywhere," the redhead mused, already turning back towards the main street. He followed, stretching a little as he opened his mouth to speak. However, it closed and both immediately tensed as a scream echoed from their destination. They spared a glanced to one another before rushing towards the entryway—only to have a woman run right into them. Ezio was the one to catch her, and Catherine realized it was a courtesan. Only, her dress had been torn to where she had to hold up the front to keep from fully exposing herself, and one of her hair buns had been wrenched to the side so it was a mess. She stared up at them with terror for a moment before she realized they weren't whomever was after her, and then quickly slipped behind the young man, clinging to his shirt.

"Please help! Don't let them take me!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

"Who—?" Catherine began, but again they were answered by yet more people coming around the corner. This time it was four guards, one with his helmet off and a fresh, red mark in the shape of a hand on his face. There were scratches, too, and the redhead spotted pieces of a dress in his hand. They found their target at once, and charged forward as they jabbed a finger at the three of them.

"Hand her over right now, urchin, and we might not kill you!" the man snarled, and behind him his cohorts pulled their blades free and the brute further back his axe.

Ezio grinned, looking to Catherine, "The lady has asked for our help… and you know I can't deny a beautiful woman's request."

"Oh, I'm well aware," she snorted right back and took a firm step forward, which brought pause to the guards. She met their gaze even more firmly, "Back off, and you won't get hurt."

They were baffled at first; no doubt perplexed at a woman "urchin" speaking to them as such, but it wore off soon enough and they bellowed with laughter. The "leader" looked her over then, much to her disgust, and he smiled in a way that made her want to carve the lips right off his face. Sick bastard.

"New plan—we'll kill the man, and take _both_ women. I always did like spirite—," he began to coo, but his last words were replaced with gurgles as a dagger found itself implanted into the base of his throat. Eyes wide, he touched at it as blood pooled into his mouth and he choked on it. He fell to his knees, much to the shock of his fellow guards, whom looked up to stare at Catherine, whom remained in her post-throw pose with a fierce glare in her visage.

"Stay back," she told the courtesan, already freeing another dagger from inside her vest and extending her blade.

"We'll handle them," Ezio added with a wink as he did the same and moved forward.

The guards recovered from their shock then, and the two with blades charged forward with mighty roars. However, they underestimated the disguised Assassins, whom weaved around the steel and countered with fists and slices of their daggers to weaken and stun their opponents. Another duck and side-step, and hidden blades were shoved into a throat and rib cage. The guards croaked as they staggered and dropped, and now only the brute remained, shaking with rage as he growled, but also fear. The two Assassins faced him, waiting for him to make his move. Ezio, knowing they had won, spared Catherine a glance and smirk.

"So, tell me—just what else are you hiding there against your breast?" he snickered.

She smirked back, "Whatever you stuff down your pants to feel better about yourself."

The young man pouted, but was given no time to reply as the brute finally rushed forward, axe swinging. They both dodged around, although the redhead had to do so again as the soldier came for her. He brought the axe over her head, meaning to cleave her in two, but she hopped backwards so the blade met stone. She leaped forward as soon as it did, ramming her heel into the man's wrists, forcing the weapon from his hand. She almost slammed a fist into his helmet, but managed to think better at the last moment and instead slapped it with the metal bracer of her gloves. It stunned and made the brute stumble—right into Ezio's reach. He pushed his head slightly to expose the neck and shoved his hidden blade into the guard's neck. It was finished and the man fell, drowning in his own blood.

"Well, I was _hoping_ to avoid killing so soon… but it was worth it. Felt good after a week of no action," the young man mused before leaning down and closing the brute's eyes and wishing him peace. The action was repeated for the others—they could never forget, or truly be nothing more than callous killers.

"It did get the blood going, and always good to know you haven't lost our touch," she chuckled in kind before looking to the woman, whom smiled. She came forward, wiping at her eyes, and letting out a laugh of relief and happiness.

"God, thank-you, thank-you! You saved me!" she cried, more tears coming despite her efforts.

"It was no trouble—we're always happy to help those in need, my lady," Ezio smiled back, bowing his head politely.

"And here," Catherine added, unbuttoning her vest to pull it off and wrap it around the woman, whom slipped it on. "You need this a lot more than me right now."

"Thank-you—I owe you my life," she sniffed.

"It was nothing. Now, where are your sisters—or better yet your brothel? We'll escort you to safety," Ezio continued, holding out his arm for her. Catherine felt stupid for having to bite her tongue to hold back the sting of jealousy.

"Of course," the woman smiled, taking his arm and batting her lashes. Another sting, but the redhead kept her mouth shut as the woman pointed and began to walk. "It's just this way. Not far."

Catherine thanked God that it actually wasn't that far like the courtesan had said. There was only so much she could watch of the woman cooing and pawing at Ezio, batting her lashes, and letting the vest slip here and there. The young man didn't help in how he would pander to her, either, although Catherine couldn't help noticing he would look over at her specifically and _smirk. _Oh, he knew it annoyed her, and he loved it. Ass.

Luckily, the brothel was just around the corner and down the street where they were beset by a group of women fret with worry and some even crying as they embraced their sister. Much delight was to be had from the gaggle, although it calmed as their rescued damsel turned to point to both of them—or rather, Ezio, Catherine gathered. They all eyed him pleasantly, although the redhead was a bit taken back when some of them eyed _her_. She raised a brow, earning giggles in response. Those quieted, however, when an older, more mature-looking and less scantily clad woman emerged from the building behind them. She was obviously the matron of the household and approached them both with warm smiles and a nod.

"My thanks to you both—you have done us a great kindness in returning my girl to us. If there is… _anything_," she told them, glancing to Ezio with a sweet—sickingly so in Catherine's opinion—smile, "we can do… don't hesitate to ask. We will gladly render assistance."

"Of course," the redhead replied for them quickly, ignoring the way Ezio smirked and eyed the girls some, whom cooed, giggled, and waved in response. Some even bade him to come soon for the "assistance", which the redhead just bet he would, much to her annoyance.

"Good-bye, ladies!" she heard him call out and heard them reply in kind. She just rolled her eyes, doing a poor attempt of pretending it didn't bother her. Of course it did, and this time she knew she shouldn't be upset. Sort of. She was in love with the idiot, so, yes, it would irritate her to have him be so flirty, but at the same time he wasn't hers so she couldn't be mad. If anything, it served as motivation to finally say something—after she calmed down, though.

"Catherine, hang on—there's a short cut this way back to the Thieves'," the young man suddenly called out, touching her arm and pulling her into an alleyway. She raised a brow, but let it be. The sooner they were back, the better.

Only, it didn't take long for her to realize they weren't getting closer to where their new home was. No, this path took them the opposite way, and ultimately ended up at a dead-end pier facing out into the harbor and the horizon far in the distance. A few abandoned gondolas were around, but otherwise there was nothing else there but the wooden pier and the two of them. Sighing with exasperation, she spun on her heels, set her arms on her hips, and gave him a look.

"This wasn't a short cut," she stated plainly.

"It was not," he grinned right back.

"Care to explain?"

"I wished to ask what's wrong," he kept on grinning, although sat on a post at the edge of the water.

Catherine snorted, "Nothing's wrong beyond you being silly."

"You're fuming," he replied, pointing a finger at her. "You only do that when you're upset."

"Uh, duh—everybody fumes when something's wrong."

"Ah-ha! So something _is_ wrong! It must be very important for you to be _this_ upset, though," he smirked, a knowing twinkly in his eyes. Catherine flushed as she spun on her heels, meaning to head back the way they'd come.

"As usual, it's none of your busine—hey!" she gasped as he suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. His lips brushed by her ear, sending a tiny shiver down her spine as she felt his breath on her cheek.

"Anything that upsets you is _my_ business."

She flushed madly and let instinct have her ground out, albeit weakly, "Save the chivalry for the _other_ girls."

"Ah ha! You're _jealous_," Ezio gleefully purred.

She barked a laugh, "And what on earth makes you think that, hmm?"

His arms loosened, so she shifted, but it was only enough so that she was turned slightly. She couldn't get completely free—cheeky man—but she could meet his eyes now. Dammit, her heart was racing so fast now. She should just come out and say it, and not keep trying to have a "sass" fight with him. She _knew_ she was being stupid by drawing it out, but her mouth, mind, and heart all seemed to be on different pages.

"Because, as I have come to notice… you only get like _this_ when I talk of or to other women—especially if I interact with them."

"Did it ever occur to you I get upset not because I'm jealous, but because you've lost focus?" she replied, brow quirked; waiting for his rejoinder.

This time he barked with laughter, "You are a terrible liar—did you know that? It's alright to be jealous, Catherine. It _is_ rather hard to resist my lovable charms."

He released her then, though only to gesture to himself with his cocky grin on. Catherine rolled her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest, but then noticed something. He was precariously close to the far edge of the post, and the water was just below. Mischievous machinations quickly formed in the redheads mind, and so she smiled as coyly as she hoped she could as she hummed and stepped closer.

"Oh, of course. Who could resist that rugged chin?" she began, reaching up to stroke the underlining of his jaw with her finger. His eyes brightened eagerly and his grin got all the more cocky. Oh, he was all too happy to let her hand roam his visage. "And those dark gems you call eyes… oh, and that long, smooth, and silky hair? Those wily ways of yours? When you growl so ruggedly? And let's not forget that firm chest of yours…"

Her eyes had fallen to his chest—which, dammit, _was_ firm and amazing along with everything else—as she put both her hands there, as if meaning to feel it up. She could tell he was excited and trying to show off. He had puffed out his chest some, and his heart beat a little fast. Nowhere near as fast as hers, but she knew. He knew. Well, he didn't know what she had planned—at least, not until she looked up at him. Her purr turned into a wicked smirk, and just as the look of terror came into his eyes, she shoved him—hard. He flew backwards right into the water with a large splash.

"They can't resist your swelled head, either! But let's see if it can help you float, asshat!" she snorted, but with a grin on her face that withheld her laughter as she sauntered over to the edge. Oh, she was very proud of her work even if it had ruined a good moment. She had time to confess later, anyways. For now, she wanted to see the fruits her labor.

If it would come back up. She had expected him to come up right away, but the surface was starting to even out, and there were no bubbles. That wasn't right. She hadn't hurt him, had she? He hadn't hit his head and gone unconscious, had he? His clothes shouldn't have been weighing him down, but then where was he?

Catherine opened her mouth to call out for him as she leaned down, but yelped in surprise instead as arms suddenly lashed out from the water, grasped her shirt, and pulled her in, too. She gasped for air as she broke the surface and treaded water next to the young man, whom was laughing happily as he clung to the wood of the pier. She pouted as she came over, taking his arm which he extended to her.

"It's only fair after pulling a dirty trick like that on me," he snickered as he pulled her close. She grasped on to the wood as well, keeping herself up with it.

"It was only a trick because you were dumb enough to fall for it," she replied, sticking out her tongue.

He sighed dramatically, "You do not fully comprehend the power of your womanly charms, kitty-Cat."

She raised a brow, "'Womanly charm'?"

"Yes," he replied, moving closer and lifting his free hand to brush a lock of wet hair stuck to her face behind her ear. Her cheeks flared and her heart raced as he came closer still. "A weapon more deadly than any blade or poison."

"Sounds… dangerous," she managed to muster, her eyes flicking between his eyes and lips. God, they were so close. His hands lingered on the side of her face, the finger gently brushing that same lock. She could feel his breath on her; swore she could feel his heartbeat, too, or was that hers? She wasn't sure anymore. She only knew he was just inches away, and she wanted that distance closed. She wanted him—badly. She wanted to be more than where they'd been. She wanted him to want the same, but she was never sure even in these moments.

"I do love danger," he purred huskily, his chest suddenly against hers, too, and it seemed firmer now. She looked once more from his lips to his eyes, and then suddenly that distance was gone.

His lips were on hers—or had hers gone to his? She wasn't sure anymore. Everything was a blur. She only felt fire in her mouth that shot through to every inch of her. Her free hand latched onto his shirt, and he responded in kind by dropping his hand to her waist, sealing her body to his. He kissed her hard over and over and she did what she could to return it. She knew she was sloppy, but he didn't mind as he ravaged her; stole the very breath from her; made her feel like she never had before. God, was this what she had been missing on? Was this how he felt about her? Was this the proof he wanted her just as much—or perhaps even more than that? Was this fire what two people who loved each other felt? She hoped it was.

Yet, as their lips parted, the redhead gasping for air, the doubts leaped forward. She hadn't meant for them to. She had meant to keep it going—to let the fire burn, but the fear came and made her hesitate. He sensed it like he always did, and he flinched. His grip relaxed and he did not come for more. He watched her instead, his eyes searching for something. For what, she suddenly wasn't sure, and a lash of shame went through her. Cheeks grew hot and red from embarrassment as she released his shirt and grabbed the post once more instead.

"Catherine…?" he called softly, but she couldn't look at him. It was stupid and she hated herself for it, but she couldn't. Damn her.

"I… maybe it's… too dangerous," was all she muttered, not understanding it any more than he did. She wanted to say so much more—to tell him how she _really_ felt, but it wouldn't come out. The fears were holding on too tight, and she needed to calm down. She needed to know this hadn't been some fluke.

Ezio said nothing as Catherine began to pull herself up. He helped her, and there was only silence between them as they made it out, dripping profusely. She looked to him for a moment, trying to say something, but still the words did not come. He smiled at her, though, and pulled his vest off to give it to her. She blinked, confused, but then looked down and realized her shirt was rather see-through. She quickly covered herself, flushing a bit more, but he made no comment; didn't even smile devilishly. Instead, he motioned towards one of the abandoned gondolas where he took the row while she sat in it.

The awkwardness around them was thick the entire way back. Catherine wanted to scream the entire time—at herself. She was so stupid. What if that had been her moment? What if that had been her chance and she'd blown it?

_'No… no, you still can. He obviously feels something. He has to. You just… you have to tell him,' _she rumbled uneasily, keeping her arms wrapped around herself. Behind her, Ezio remained ever quiet as he rowed, and she thanked him for that. Yet, at the same time she worried. What was he thinking? Had he been hurt by her reluctance? Did he think she felt nothing now? God, there were so many questions, and although she knew she had to say something, she loathed that talk now.

"We're here," the young man said at last, and was gentle as he held his hand out for her to help her up. He spoke more then, though mostly of finding Fontina and hoping their regular clothes were dry. She vaguely heard it all as all the scenarios ran through her mind, good and bad. She tried to focus on the good as they met with the older woman, whom had finished their attire. She tried to imagine him confessing he felt the same as she changed and then was led to their new home. She tried to force both back as they inspected the place and their rooms and found their things waiting. She tried to not hate herself for potentially ruining everything.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the thoughts would not leave even as the sun set and Fontina brought them dinner to eat. She barely spoke through it all, and she almost failed to notice Ezio hadn't said much, either. What did that mean, though? The agony of not knowing was unbearable, and the weight only grew heavier and heavier with each passing minute. It made every step to their rooms near impossible. It made speaking even worse, although she was desperate to reach out to him—to grab his sleeve again. To talk to him. To say _something_.

By some miracle, she manage to grasp his cape.

He stopped, turning towards her. He didn't say anything; just watched and waited for her. For what, though? What was _he_ waiting for? A confession? A rejection? What did _he_ want? What was it there deep in those eyes of his? Disappointment? Want? Lust? Love? She wished he would speak first instead as she struggled; kept her grip tight on his cape, but couldn't meet his eyes.

"Catherine," he spoke at last, and when she looked up she found him right in front of her. She took a step back in surprise and found the wall. He followed her and placed his arms above her on either side of her head. He almost touched, but not quite; just enough to bring their faces close again. The memory of before came to her, and the remnants of the fire coursed through her. It battled against her fears, which had grown strong. What if she was just another conquest like Caterina? What if she was just another woman he would eventually leave?

"I… Ezio…. I…" she tried—really, she did. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but her heart hammered too fast. His forehead touched hers, and she thought she might explode. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, but it was hard. She swore she felt his lips ghost hers, but the fire did not come again. Instead, a kiss was placed on her cheek and his mouth lingered by her ear.

"When you're ready."

Catherine opened her eyes, but he was gone. Her fingers lifted to touch her cheek, and she looked to where his room was. Her heart had not calmed in the slightest, but her fears quelled some. He had to love her. He had to.

She had to tell him. Not yet, though—she wasn't ready like he said. But soon.

Soon she'd tell him she loved him.

* * *

_My song is love_  
_My song is love, unknown  
But I'm on fire for you, clearly  
You don't have to be alone  
You don't have to be on your own_

_My song is love, is love unknown  
And I've got to get that message home_

* * *

**48 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Ain't I a stinker? ;D *nibbles on carrot*_

_Okay, but no. You guys should have enjoyed that. THEY KISSED. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Full on make-out session, too. Tongue was totally involved. But gosh darn it. Catherine and her fears. Got the best of her there, but don't you worry. This sweet baby is determined more than ever to confess after Ezio's tender little bit at the end there. IT WILL HAPPEN. I SWEAR._

_After more drama._

_TEE HEE._

_But nah, you'll see. I have something big to happen before we finally get them together, so get your socks on tight else you might lose 'em! ;)_


	50. Four Walls

**TMWolf: **_Aaaaaand update time! More Catzio fluffy cuteness... and more confession blocking, TEE HEE. I can't make it easy. Anyways, prepare yourselves._

_As always, how the canon characters react is based upon my interpretation of the canon._

_Also as always, thank-you soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much for all the reviews! I absolutely love getting to read all you comments and answering your questions, so, please, feel free to continue leaving them and asking what you'd like. Although, I won't answer spoilers! xD Sorry, no spoils here! Now, to answer guest reviews:_

**Guest (1)**: Oh my gooooooooooosh yaaaaaay! xD Yesss true OTP for the win! And prepare for more fluff!

**Guest (2)**: ...I literally laughed out loud reading your review xD All those words and totally worth it, ha ha ha.

**Guest (3)**: Nyahahahahaha yisss yissss feel the agony. Ya'll still gotta wait! Confessions don't come easy for this ship! xD

**Guest (4)**: Ugh, yes Catherine does... she's such a weenie about it, though -A- Not without reason, but, well, she's much more determined this chapter, so who know? xD

**Kise-cchi**: Yep! I'm back, and I'm honored you guys care so much! I'm doing much better, although work is still a little hectic, but things are easing up :) Hahaha, glad you enjoyed this fluff... prepare for more tenderness and confession blocking, though, because it's coming, and you're gunna hate me for it xD And d'aaaaaaw, thank-youuuuuuuuu! *flails giddily* Sorry you had to look crazy... but kinda not sorry 'cause that's great for me xD And now I go to eat those delicious digital cookies ;)

**KyloRenFAN:** Hmm... it's not so much he *can't*, but that he *won't*-not unlike Catherine. He kinda gave away his reasoning to Leonardo earlier on, but more will be revealed as things keep going :) Just be patient!

**xoxo**: YISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS IT'S HAPPENING. Eventually. XD

Okay, I think I covered all the guest reviews... so, this chapter is from The Brood - Four Walls. The song fit soooooooooo well! I've been waiting so long to do this chapter! xD Anyways, I'll stop with this author's note and let ya'll get on with it!

Enjoy~

* * *

**49 **– _Four Walls_

* * *

**March 12, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

Catherine tried to tell Ezio. Really, she did.

However, it seemed life had other ideas.

That is, _Antonio_ had other ideas. Of course, he had no idea of her plans, but his timing was impeccable.

She had gathered all the courage she needed the following morning, and had even been ready to say something when one of the thieves—Ugo, she eventually remembered—came knocking. Evidently the leader of the thieves already had something for them to do and it was only their second day. Duty came first, though, which meant the redhead put her confession on hold and the two of them got to work. It was nothing terribly difficult, and even coincided with their scouting, as Antonio had a task for them in the sectors they hadn't really explored as thoroughly. He advised not venturing too far out of the district they were in now, but do as they needed to get things done. The task? A simple recon of where some thieves might be held or where certain people of interest would be.

So off they went, back in their proper gear. They had split up to cover more ground, but it took longer than expected to find what all they needed. The city was still new and somewhat confusing, and the archers proved another bane. They were simple enough to avoid, but the city wasn't the easiest to navigate if you didn't know it perfectly, and so Catherine often found herself back tracking until she finally got the hang of things. That, or she would make quick leaps across the canals to new areas and go from there. She would have just preferred to dwindle the archers' numbers, but they were still unknown even after yesterday's fight—there had been a ruckus during the night apparently, but no one seemed to know what had happened or who did what—so it was better to play it safe. Still, running the roofs to find people would provide a better view.

Catherine made do, though, and soon enough she located the first target: a merchant, clad in a green tunic with rims of gold and a feathered hat. She didn't really know _why_ Antonio wanted her to find him, but she did it anyways, and made note of the location on the small map she'd brought with her. A quick etch on the paper with a piece of charcoal, and it was done. She did make sure to follow the man a little since he was out and about, and found a rather elegant house he shut himself into. She marked that down, too, and then headed out once more.

It was almost midday now, and more people were walking around. Unfortunately, that also meant more eyes to notice her, and she definitely stood out on her own. She was able to keep her eyes hidden under her hood, but she saw the looks—the glances. Mostly raised brows and hushed whispers, but there were some shakes of the head, sneers, and gazes that made her want to cringe. She could just tell what they were thinking, and if she could, she might have punched the very thought out of their heads. Thankfully none were guards, else she might just actually have to do it. She still made a point to avoid the denizens as best she could, and regretted splitting up because of it. With Ezio around, it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but a woman on her own wearing armor and carrying weapons—and God forbid _pants_? Of course she would attract attention.

_'It's going to be a pain getting used to being noticed again,'_ the redhead sighed as she continued along, keeping her eyes out for a thief—one who wouldn't really be dressed like it. Sort of. Still ragged clothing, but not like the normal ones. Again, she didn't know why this particular person, but she had suspicions. Possibly an enemy thief that was a spy or even a traitor. Or perhaps a potential ally. It could go either way, but that wasn't for her to decide. In a way, _that_ felt weird to know. She and Ezio had decided so much on their own in _Firenze_ and _Toscana_, but here? Here they were guests. This was Antonio's city, and to do as they pleased would be inconsiderate and possibly make them enemies. Still; the restraint felt unusual. However, so long as it did not interfere with _their_ work, then she could live with it.

"Who is that woman?"

Catherine somehow managed to not whip her head to stare down whoever had said it. Instead, she only paused to look around at the various tables, as if meaning to buy something. She glanced at the source of the voice, and found a trio of guards. Damn. She hadn't been paying enough attention to her surroundings like an idiot. Mario would have her hide if he knew, but thank God he wasn't here. She kept moving away gradually, not trying to look suspicious, but she could see they were slowly following; whispering and muttering over what to be done with her. Who was she? Why was she here? Why dressed so strange? Had she ever been here before?

Her eyes flicked to the nearby alleyway. She could lose them their easily enough, so she started for it.

"Hey! You!"

She mentally groaned; knowing full well who they were shouting at. Great. Just _great_. Was it going to potentially turn into a proper chase now? Just what she needed. She mentally prepared herself as she made for the tight corner, waiting for them to start shouting more angrily. However, that was put on hold as a pair of decidedly feminine and gentle hands wound their way around her arms, and she found herself with a pair of courtesans at her side.

"Come; we'll distract them," they spoke softly, though never missed a beat as they lead her down the road. Catherine was able to look back briefly at one point, and three other young ladies were, indeed, distracting the group. They had certainly forgotten all about her, and their little trio safely made it out of sight where the women finally broke free, smiling rather pleased with themselves—as they should be.

"Thank-you. You saved me a rather annoying time," Catherine chuckled, smiling right back.

One of them laughed, "It was our pleasure after you helped one of our own, although we almost didn't recognize you in your new get up."

"Yeah, I guess I do look pretty different in all this," she snickered. "Thank-you, again. I really do appreciate it… and now I need to get back to finding this guy…"

"Who are you after? We may know them—especially if it's a man," the second girl giggled playfully.

"Um… well, I was told he wears ragged clothes, but somewhat nice, and he's supposed to be in this area here," Catherine explained, pointing to the general location on her map. "Looks like a thief or what not. Dark hair—brown eyes. Scar over the bridge of the nose?"

"Hmm… that does sound familiar. We have some girls in that part, and I've worked there before… so the person is probably more likely around here," the first replied, gesturing to a spot just a little to the left on the parchment.

"Okay, good—thanks! That should help a lot," the redhead nodded as she returned the map to her vest.

The second girl nodded back, "No problem, and if the guards bother you again… just give us a wave. We'll be more than happy to help again. And if you're ever tired or just need some… _relaxation_… our doors are always open."

Catherine had to pause for a second, registering the tone. She looked to the young woman, who gave a playful wink before giggling once more and heading off. Her companion just laughed lightly, bidding a cheerful "farewell", and then she was gone, too; leaving the redhead still somewhat puzzled. Had she meant what she thought she meant? Had the girls offered to "service" her like they did the men? She _supposed_ that wasn't unheard of, but it was certainly the first time for _her_. So she stood still a bit longer, blinking, and then shook her head with a short laugh. _Venezia_ was certainly proving an interesting place.

_'Right, time to find the guy,' _she mused as she did a quick glance around for danger, and then headed off once more.

She heeded the courtesans' advice and found the area soon enough. She asked the small group there, but they hadn't seen the target. However, it only took waiting around for about ten minutes before the man came into view. It was him for sure, and she made sure to follow him back to a building just around the corner. With a quick mark on her map, she was done, and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd spent most the day working on this, but now she could finally get back. She imagined Ezio was already done—he had his Vision to help him see, after all—so she made a straight beeline for the Thieves' headquarters. It wasn't far by any means, so she began to recognize things and some faces in a matter of minutes. Her house wouldn't be far from the "entrance", and she considered getting something to eat real quick.

That is, until a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her stomach and pulled her tight to a chest. She was even lifted off the ground as she yelped in surprised and flailed awkwardly. A familiar laugh reached her ears and she looked over her shoulder into the mischievously grinning mug of one Ezio Auditore. His eyes twinkled with playfulness, which kept her from being able to hold up her pout. No, she laughed as she shook her head at him.

"Alright, alright, you got me. You can put me down now," she mused, folding her arms over her chest.

He brought his head beside hers, lips brushing her ear, "Oh, but why would I do that? I have you right where I want you."

"I'll go dead weight on you."

"You know I can just swing you over my shoulder and carry you," he snickered.

"And you know I'll make that difficu—and you're walking with me like this. Oh my God, you're walking with me like _this_," she laughed as the young man did, in fact, begin to move with her hoisted up in his arms.

"You love it."

She smirked, "_Never_."

"So stubborn!" he barked with laughter back before suddenly setting her down, though he played one final trick by brushing his chin against her neck. The stubble tickled her a little, but the feel of his breath on her skin made her shiver. She knew he'd felt it in the way he chuckled and his smirk widened when she looked at him. She flushed slightly, but this time held onto her pout.

"You love it," she quipped.

"I do."

She had expected something a bit wittier, and so had her rejoinder ready, but the two words stalled her. She looked to him, confused; his smirk had softened to a tender smile and the mischievous look in his eye held something else. She hoped for a certain one, but she kept herself from latching onto it. Oh, she was going to try for it as soon as she could—now perhaps? No, not yet, but tonight. Later tonight. Until then, though, she had to temper herself, but dammit he made it hard.

"A-anyways… did you find your targets?" she asked finally, looking away in a poor and failed attempt to hide her reddened cheeks.

He pulled out his own map, "Yes. All located and accounted for. Antonio will be pleased."

"Good. I think that's all he wants for us today… so we can do what we like after," she hummed as they approached where the Thief leader resided.

"Sounds like a plan," Ezio chuckled, reaching up and knocking on the door. To their surprise, no answer came. The young man frowned and made to knock again.

"Sorry, but Antonio left—just for a little while," a voice called, and the two looked to find the lady thief they had met days before standing not far off. Rosa, Catherine recalled, and it seemed she was finally out and about. She did have a crutch, though, and her leg was bandaged over her clothes. She moved with a slight wince, too, but she looked to be doing alright.

"Hello, Rosa. You seem to be healing well," Ezio began as they came to meet her.

The woman smiled, "Indeed. How are you both finding _Venezia_?"

"It's not bad—very pretty," Catherine replied.

"Except for the smell—how do you all deal with it? So disgusting!" the young man snickered, waving his hand in front of his nose, earning a laugh from both ladies.

"You'll get used to it. So what did you need Antonio for?" Rosa mused, glancing to the locked door.

"Mission results," Catherine noted, holding up her own map.

The thief nodded, "Ah, I see… well, he will be back later. You can do as you like until then."

"Lunch sounds like an idea to me," the redhead mused, her stomach feeling the pangs slightly.

"Indeed it does… although… Rosa," Ezio began, catching the thief's attention as he came closer, "I was hoping you could help me with something."

The woman smiled welcomingly, her eyes roving him some as she cooed, "And that would be…?"

Catherine bit her tongue to withhold her jealousy as Ezio lifted his hand as if to caress her chin—that little flirt of his that always worked so well. She half expected him to say help with something private or what not.

"We'd like to learn the climb the way you do."

Rosa pouted as she pulled away, disappointed, "Oh… Alright. I can do that. Or, well… _I _can't. But Franco can. Hang on. Franco! Move your ass!"

Catherine raised a brow, surprised—and a little ashamed of herself. She was soon embarrassed when Ezio looked back at her, a knowing look on his face. Oh, he knew she had been jealous, and that little stunt of his had been on purpose. Cheeky bastard. Why did she love him again? Because she somehow both loved and hated when he teased her like this, that's why. She sighed with a shake of her head once Ezio turned back around and "Franco" appeared from around the corner. He gave Rosa a quizzical look.

She motioned to the structure next to him, "Show Ezio and Catherine how to reach the top of that scaffolding. Aright, you two come here and watch. You'll begin in a hanging position like Franco is. Then jump to the ledge above you. As you reach it, grab it with your hand and pull yourself up. You have to grab at the height of the jump and hold tight, or you'll slip—that's the trickiest part. Be sure to kick hard with your legs…. And, there. See how it works?"

"I think so," Ezio shrugged.

Catherine nodded, "Seems simple enough to do."

"Only one way to find out," Rosa grinned and motioned her head to the scaffolding. "Try for yourself."

"Ladies first," the young man chuckled, bowing to the redhead.

"Oh, yes—do show him how it's done," the thief snickered as Catherine rolled her eyes.

"He does have trouble catching on to new techniques. Always so slow," she sighed dramatically as she sauntered forward. It really did seem easy enough, and she had to wonder how she hadn't really considered it before. She'd seen it done now, though, so she scrambled to the first spot. She eyed the post above—too far for an arm reach—but with a quick coil of her legs she leaped up, reached, grasped the wooden ledge, and kept hold. Easy enough. She repeated the process for the next, and then hauled herself up. A grin was plastered on her face as she stood tall, hands on her hips.

"Well done! Now let's see if he can do even half as good!" Rosa laughed, which Catherine couldn't help but mimic.

"Hey!" Ezio huffed.

"Oh, don't pout! Just come on!" the redhead snickered, and her grin remained as the young man followed in her footsteps. Like her, it only took a few seconds to reach the top, and then he was standing right beside her, hands on his hips, too.

"So, how did I do, _master_?"

She hummed, looking him up and down, "Not bad, I guess."

"I've seen better!" Rosa shouted from below.

Ezio grasped at his chest, as if in agony, "You wound me with your cruel, cruel words!"

"Alright, show off. Catherine, how do you stand him?"

"I don't!" she laughed right back.

"Perhaps we should test him? Make him prove his mettle?" the thief smirked, brow raised.

Catherine looked to Ezio, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "That… sounds like a _fantastic_ idea."

"Ha! I'm all ears," the young man grinned, up for the challenge.

"Meet me in front of the _Frari_!" Rosa exclaimed, and did not waste a moment as she hobbled off.

"Well, let's not keep her waiting," the redhead chuckled, motioning to the ground. Ezio slipped down first, and she followed after. To her surprise, just as she reached the lower bars and meant to drop down he grasped her waist gently and set her down instead. His hands lingered a little longer than they should have, and, her mood still playful, she turned and waggled a finger at him. "Now, now—don't you go trying to use your charms on me, good sir."

He smiled playfully before suddenly reached up to stroke her cheek. Both his smile and eyes softened, making her heart flutter and cheeks flush.

"But you're the only woman I want to charm," he murmured softly, and then turned away. Once again he left her baffled and confused and _excited_. God, how could _one_ person make her feel this way? It wasn't fair—not at all. Dammit, now she _had_ to say something _tonight_.

For now, though, the two of them headed back out into the city. Rosa took a route they didn't see, but her crutch did cause her to take longer than they did to reach the tall, red-bricked building she had mentioned. Regardless, they all made it, and they were ready for whatever challenge she had in mind. She turned her attention to Ezio first.

"Alright, showoff. Climbing a bit of scaffolding is all well and good, but let's see how you do in the open. You have five minutes to get to the top of the tower and come back here. Catherine, I'll have you help me keep time," the thief smiled, beckoning the redhead over. She complied and leaned against the canal's wall, grinning at Ezio, whom frowned.

"Why doesn't she have to take the 'test'?"

"Because I'm not the one who thinks their cock is too big for their pants," the redhead cooed right back.

Ezio huffed, but turned away, grumbling under his breath about going to the top of the tower. He went on, though, and Catherine couldn't help laughing. However, he paused after a few steps, and turned back to them.

"If I manage it, I demand a prize in return!"

"Like _what_?" the redhead snorted with a smirk.

"Any request."

"Any _reasonable_ request—and don't give me that look. I know you."

He smirked with a wink, "That will do. See you in three minutes."

"That goofball," Catherine half-sighed, half-laughed as she shook her head, but smiled in the end as she watched him go.

"Are you two… together?"

Catherine's face turned as red as a tomato as her head turned sharply to Rosa, "I—what—no—we… uh, that is… we, uh… No. No we're, uh… not. Together, I mean. Not together."

"I see… but you're in love with him," the thief went on, eyes lit with understanding. The redhead opened her mouth, but closed it in the end. There was no need to deny it—especially if it was so obvious. But if it was to Rosa, then why didn't Ezio act on it? She groaned as the thief chuckled. "Your secret is safe with me, and I suppose I'll have to leave him alone then. You did help save my life after all, so it's the least I can do."

"Who are you going to use your 'cruel, cruel words' on then?" the redhead inquired, and couldn't help feeling a touch of relief at the thief's promise. Rosa was a beautiful woman, actually, despite her rugged appearance. She had a coy smile, too, and a sultry look that no doubt caused many men to pause. Catherine wouldn't have been surprised if she charmed her way into Ezio's bed, if he didn't do so first.

"Hmm… I can always bother Ugo, I suppose," the woman snickered. She paused briefly before looking to the redhead again. "Just be warned; others do not owe you this favor. You should take him while you can."

"I… I know," the redhead mumbled, arms tightening around herself some.

Rosa watched her for a moment before humming, "You have doubts."

"They're stupid… and I'm getting over them. I know I have to do something soon, though."

"Good! Otherwise, I may just have to take back my promise," the thief purred, and then laughed when Catherine looked at her sharply. "I jest! I jest!"

"Better thief than jester," Catherine mused, earning an almost wicked grin from the woman. The redhead smiled a moment later before gesturing to Rosa's leg. "How are you really, by the way? I mean, you got shot in the leg and then you fell on it and ran for so long on it…"

"I'm fine—truly. The wound wasn't all that serious, and I'll only be on this damned thing for a few more days. I'll be running around soon enough."

"That's good. It'd be nice having another woman climbing walls and running across rooftops. I'm beginning to feel like an anomaly."

"Ha! You call that climbing and running? Just wait until I am back on my feet—I'll show you how it's really done," Rosa replied, eyes bright with challenge.

Catherine smirked right back, "You're on."

A loud thud came not moments later, and from a nearby haystack a familiar Assassin cloaked in white popped free.

"…Well shit. That was definitely less than five minutes. I owe him a request," the redhead mused as Ezio approached them, looking quite smug.

"Well, well, seems you've done it. Excellent work," Rosa chuckled, glancing to the redhead briefly. "Looks like you've learned all I have to teach, though. I'll let Antonio know about your progress when I get back. With any luck, he's already returned."

"Don't need an escort back?" Catherine asked, but the thief shook her head.

"I'll be fine. Go on," the woman chuckled back.

"We'll see you later then," Ezio grinned, and then tugged the redhead to follow him back. She heeded his urging, although was a little surprised he was so eager to go. She managed to give Rosa a farewell wave before she kept pace. She noted the young man had his brow raised, so she gave him the moment of pause he wanted before he asked whatever it was going on in his mind. "You two are rather cheerful with one another already…?"

She laughed, "We just have some things in common now."

"Like what?"

"Like knowing you're cocky."

He snickered for a moment before suddenly snapping his fingers, "Ah! I almost forgot. _You_ owe me a request!"

"Huh? Oh! Oh god dammit, I do," the redhead sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Now, now, don't bemoan it when you don't even know what it is."

"Okay, fine—what is it then?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm… actually… I'm going to save it."

"…Save it?"

"Yes. I'll let you know once I decide what I want," he winked at her, earning an odd look, but ultimately she shrugged.

"Alright. If that's what you want."

And apparently he did; Ezio made no mentions of the favor the entire way back and even as they had lunch. Of course, that made her suspicious, but there was nothing she could do but wait for him to make his move. Oh, she didn't doubt it would be something cheeky, but _how_ much so would remain to be seen.

Turned out it would have to wait quite a while, too; not long after they'd finished eating lunch Antonio returned and they gave their results. He had yet another task for them, too. More scouting and such. It was easy, almost tedious work, but it was what needed to be done, apparently. They were willing, though—especially when they recalled they were given refuge, supplies, and help for free. So they went about it, and Catherine's only real complaint was that she would have preferred using the time to get her courage together to tell Ezio how she felt, but work came first, even if it left her exhausted at the end of the day. Her companion, too, was tired, and so they did little more than eat and head to bed once things were done. It was a disappointment for Catherine, but she went to sleep knowing she would have a chance the next day. After all, Antonio couldn't have _that_ much for them to do or keep them busy for days.

**-O-**

**March 15, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

As it turned out, Antonio _did _have enough for them to do—for three days.

It was essentially just small things; recon; search and find; thefts; letter delivery; beat ups, and so on. Nothing they couldn't manage on their own, and often they split up to do it. Their work eventually took them out of the small district the thieves were held up in. Of course, that meant they spent a great deal of time learning the area and learning yet more alleyways, but they would have to learn eventually. Guards were more of an issue in the other districts, but word had spread through the courtesans, providing them with a form of safety, and the thieves were everywhere, too. Still, work was harder, and left both of them tired at the end of the day. In fact, Catherine didn't recall them doing much _together_ beyond eating a meal made by Fontina or Leonardo when they'd visited him, and then they slept because they were so tired—yet _again_.

It made trying to tell someone your feelings rather difficult.

Catherine hoped it would be different today. Namely, because it was only midday and Antonio assured them this was the last mission he had for them for the next few days. It was a little tricky, though. For one, this was a mission involving traitors; men Antonio had once trusted but had been turned over to the Templar's side. Emilio had somehow gotten to them, either by bribery, blackmail, or whatever else might sway a man. Now their lives had to be taken to protect the Thieves and land a blow to the Templar bastards. In total there were three: one in the harbor nearby the headquarters, another on a south-eastern rooftop in the district, and one in the streets to the northeast. It was decided the two of them would split up, one target going to each, and the third to whomever got him first. Ezio called the one at the harbor, and she chose the rooftop, leaving the man in the streets up for grabs.

She didn't know about Ezio's target, but her first one had been rather easy. Racing across the roofs brought her upon him quickly enough, and then it was a waiting game for him to come closer. At one point, she had thought she'd been seen, but then he had turned around and, with no one else around to warn him, she unsheathed her blade and shoved it into the back of his neck. He died silently and quickly, ending his threat. She gave him his rights despite being a traitor, and then she headed towards the northeast. She occasionally kept an eye out for Ezio on the way, but ultimately she didn't see him as she made her way to the ground and weaved through the crowd. She imagined the target would be dressed like a thief, but acting different—not unlike the first, whom had been stalking the roofs in ways the others didn't.

It took a few minutes, but she found a thief walking alone. She narrowed her eyes, not certain, but had a good hunch. She kept hot on his heels, though made sure to keep a safe distance just in case. She couldn't afford to cause him to panic if he _was_ the target—God, she wished she had the Vision—and then there were guards not far off. If she attacked, she would definitely catch their attention.

'_Oh no—don't tell me he's… shit! He is,' _Catherine silently snarled as the man made his way into a covered plaza area overlooking a waterway—right where the guards were. She even saw him talk to one, nodding and speaking plainly. He was the traitor alright, and now he had protection. Shit. She couldn't handle that many guards easily—a brute, two spears, and two normal blades. If she could get the surprise and do guerilla tactics, she could take them on, but the target might run and she'd risk losing him. She could try sneaking a kill on the target only and run, but the guards made too many eyes on her, and the crowd in the plaza wasn't very thick.

It didn't look good. Worse still, Ezio was nowhere to be seen. She was on her own, and she didn't know if the target would ever make himself vulnerable again. She was going to have to find a way to get to him. Somehow.

Sighing, she ventured over to a bench and watched from underneath her hood. She supposed there was some silver lining: the guards were moving in a predictable pattern. The thief? Not as predictable, but he was admiring the canal quite a bite—almost like he was waiting for someone. If that was the case, then she had even less time and needed to act soon. Damn. Why couldn't Ezio show up when she needed him to?

'_I can't afford to wait… alright, you can do this. You've trained for it,' _Catherine mused, clenching her fingers as she prepared herself. Breathing in and out slowly, she pushed off the bench. Timing it, she moved through the crowd as the guards turned away. The man was right there—his back to her; watching the water. He was vulnerable, and she was just a few feet away. She extended the blade and made to shove it right into his back.

He turned at the last second, and it was all he needed to shift and snatch her arm so it only grazed his side. He quickly threw her backwards.  
"_Assassin! _Guards! _Help!_" he screamed, and Catherine cursed as she rolled up. Her head shot to the incoming torrent of sharp metal. She drew her weapon as she shot up, kept her hidden blade extended, and turned her back to the nearby wall. At the very least it would keep them all in front of her, and she hoped their taunting and jeering faces meant they would completely underestimate her. Unfortunately, it seemed the thief had grown balls, too, and joined the guards with his dagger brandished.

Things did not look good.

"Kill her! She's one of them!" the thief spat, and the nearest guard—a sword wielder—charged.

She ducked, spinning under, and slashed his side. He yelped in pain, and she meant to finish him off, but the thief lunged at her. Panic flooded through her, not having much time to move, but then her pocket grew warm. The world slowed, but only enough to give her timed to leap back out of the way. She was given no reprieve—the nearby brute swung his axe. It was coming too fast to dodge by normal means, and so she called out the Clock. To her surprise, the heat in her pocket flared almost painfully and the world changed to strings of light. Once it would have left her baffled, but now she knew to move out of the way of the lights of the axe and move to the thief. She cut clean through those at his throat, and then turned to the guards. She sliced the sword man, then the two spears, and then a brute. She made for the second swordsman, but she had barely gotten her blade through one string when a sharp pain shot through her skull. It was as if a heavy weight had been placed onto her skull, and her vision blurred. She cursed as she stumbled, the heat in her pocket fading, and the lights faded as the world returned to normal.

Golden glows were replaced with a fountain of red as the guard's throats split open and they fell. She went to a knee, touching at her head, and then her nose were blood had dribbled onto along with other parts of her attire. She groaned as she tried to shake away the agony and her slightly blurred vision, but it was hard and her limbs ached some now.

"What in God's name—_demon_! She is a demon!" a voice howled in sheer terror, and when she lifted her head she found a behemoth of a man with his axe raised and eyes wide beneath a helmet. She made a shaky curse as she struggled to stand, lifting her blade to defend herself. It was a fruitless venture as the man swung, knocking away her sword and hitting her gauntlet. Only the armor plates saved her from having her flesh cut, but the force sent shocks of pain through her forearm as she was thrown back. She yelped as a metal heel rammed into her stomach, forcing her to the ground, and then it was on her chest; pinning her there. The weight made it hard to breathe, and she could not find a spot to shove her hidden blade into as she tried, in vain, to get him off.

The main raised his axe, "Die, She-devil—!"

"_No!"_

There was a flash of white, and then the pressure was suddenly gone. Catherine sucked in air greedily. She rolled to her elbows, and, despite her still somewhat blurry vision, saw Ezio had barreled into the brute and was now facing him; blade drawn and parrying against the axe. She couldn't begin to explain the relief she felt at the sight of the young man, but she wasn't given long to feel it. The last swordsman was still there, and he had finally lost his shock at everything. In fact, he was quite determined to get vengeance it seemed, and he came for her. She cursed as she scrambled for her sword, and gathered it in her hands just in time to block the incoming blade from her knees. She was weak, though; shaky. She wouldn't be able to hold him off much longer, so she made a desperate move. She let herself fall to her back, but only so she could ram her heel between his legs—albeit narrowly avoiding having her shoulder cut. The man groaned in pure agony, and then he was choking on his blood as the redhead shoved her hidden blade into his throat.

Catherine panted heavily as she finally got to her feet. Her vision was better, and she could see Ezio leap upon the brute and end him. However, there would be no rest; more guards came racing through the streets. Yet more swords and more spears. An agile was among them, and he came for her. She was still dizzy, which made her less of a match than she should have been. She damned the lithe man's reflexes—he was dodging her blows and getting in his own; slicing through her shirt here and there or scratching her cheek—and she felt exhausted. Her limbs were heavy and her head was even worse, and the damned Clock wouldn't answer her anymore. She cursed as the scout kept forcing her back, parrying her blade. She was losing her focus and her vision blurred again as he knocked her arms up. She was open for attack and he knew it. She knew she wouldn't be able to dodge in time, too.

Again, a blur of white was her savior. She was pushed aside, hitting the near wall. A pained grunt reached her ears, and she gasped as she saw a short dagger splatter blood on the ground. It hadn't been stuck into his gut, but it had sliced through the edge. Ezio only grimaced—teeth grit tight—and grabbed the scout's arm. His hidden blade went into the man's middle before retracting and then the young man kicked the soldier away. If he was in pain, Ezio ignored it as he moved to Catherine's side in a second, gathered her up, and threw a smoke bomb with the other hand. Any remaining guards were consumed by the smoke while they ran. He held her hand tight, and she gripped his hard right back as she worked hard to keep up. Things were still difficult, but she was getting better. By the time they had rounded a few corners and Ezio had thrown them both into a pile of hay, she was finally starting to catch her breath.

She kept her eyes closed, though, as the young man held her close, and used the heart-pounding minutes to let both the danger pass and to calm herself down. Her head still ached, but not as badly, and when she opened her eyes see the details in his vest. She sighed with relief and let her head fall against his chest. She felt him squeeze his arms around her a little tighter and kept them there for about a minute more.

"Alright, we should be safe now," Ezio spoke softly, and they slipped out of the hay. Brushing off the straws, she noted her clothes were stained all over, as were her companions—especially his side. Before she could get to it, though, he was suddenly examining her; he touched at her arm and sides where she'd been cut and then cupped her face gently. "Your nose is bleeding…"

"Don't worry—I'm okay. But, Ezio—your wound, Jesus," she rasped, pulling from his touch only so she could touch at his. He winced with an instinctive hiss, but still waved her off.

"It's minor—promise."

"No it's not. You're really bleeding and I saw it hurt… you're going to need a doctor—stitches for sure… shit… I'm so sorry, Ezio. This is my fault—if you hadn't had to save me back there…" she sighed, letting her head fall against his chest as she closed her eyes shamefully.

He stroked her head gently, "Only at the end—you were doing fine before then. You killed most of them before I even came."

'_If only you knew how,' _she murmured silently before she looked to his wound and then up at him, "Still…. Anyways, let's go. We need a doctor or whoever helped Rosa."

"We do need to head back now everyone's been dealt with. Come on," Ezio nodded, and they went at a light run.

Catherine worried over the wound the whole way; it refused to stop bleeding, and the effort made by running only worsened it. The young man stayed strong, though, and she hated herself all the more for having put him in that situation. She blamed her own weakness, even if the odds had been terrible. She knew part of it had been the Clock, too; she couldn't deny using it had caused her to have the headache. The thought was unnerving and a cause for concern, but she would have to deal with it later. For now, she kept her attention on Ezio and getting him help.

Thankfully, Antonio had a person to send them to—Bianca. It was the same woman who had helped Rosa, and she was more than willing to give the same aid to Ezio. She had the young man remove his shirt, revealing the extent of the wound; not _too_ deep, but enough to be a concern. As Catherine had suspected, it needed stitches, and the young man had to work hard not to grimace the entire time. The redhead stayed with him, though, letting him hold her hand in a vice as the older woman did her work. He was given alcohol as well, to try and numb things, but it was evident it didn't help much. Antonio remained with them as well, and while he was concerned for the young man, he was happy to hear they had been successful. He urged them to rest as long as they needed, and that he would not need them for some time. Of course, even if he had, Bianca assured them they would not be doing anything of the sort until Ezio could at least not wince when he moved.

It took perhaps an hour, but they were finally able to return to their home. A hot meal was promised, but for now Ezio took up sitting on one of the couches, head leaning back against the top. Pain flickered into his visage every so often, the wound aching. It had been red long after the final stich had been made, and Catherine could tell blood was still occasionally seeping through—his new undershirt was earning a few new stains as time passed. It made her feel all the more guilty. It was enough so she couldn't meet his eyes as she gathered their meal from Fontina and helped serve it. She ate slowly, going over what had all happened, and wished she could go back and change things. She couldn't, though, and Ezio had been hurt badly enough to put him out of commission for at least a day or two—maybe three. _She_ should have been the one hurt.

"Catherine, I'm fine."

She sighed, putting her plate down, "No, you're not."

"_Yes_, I am. I got cut up, yes, but I've been cut up before."

"But not because I was stupid and made mistakes," she muttered, and he was the one to sigh this time. He set his plate down, too, and moved over to her side. He lifted his shirt, exposing the wound. The skin was still bright red, and there were scabs where the blood had clotted finally.

"Look. It's alright. The stiches are fine. It stings, yes, but I'm alright. It wasn't your fault, either. You were facing a difficult fight, and we all make mistakes. We look out for each other, though—you told me that, remember? You would have done the same if you were in my place," Ezio told her, lifting her chin with her other hand so she would meet his eyes.

"Still…"

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "Catherine… you worry too much… but if you feel you must 'make up' for it… Fontina mentioned I have to be careful and care for the wound… but perhaps you would do a better job of it, no? You said Annetta had been teaching you, yes?"

"I—oh, uh… yes, she did," the redhead replied.

"Good. Then tend to me. Be my 'doctor'," the young man smirked, waggling his brow playfully.

"'Doctor', huh?" she mused, smiling a little herself. He was really good at cheering her up somehow—probably some wicked, dark magic— although she did feel guilty still. "Well, I guess I can do that. It could use some cleaning up, actually, along with your other injuries."

"Do as you must, 'Doctor'," he chuckled as she got up to get a towel and bowl of water.

"If I must… go ahead and remove your shirt—and don't even say anything or make a look. I need to clean all the other cuts and your shit is in the way," she mused, flashing him a "don't-you-dare". He smiled innocently, but obeyed. Briefly, she regretted her decision, but then thought better of it. She actually didn't get to see him with his chest bare as often as she thought, and he was well toned—unfairly so. She would have been lying if she said she couldn't help staring, or taking her sweet time dabbing at his smaller injuries. He was definitely firm with muscles, and the thought of what such arms could do caused all sorts of _other_ thoughts to come to mind. It made her heart race, and she grew embarrassed. She was supposed to be caring for him medically—not thinking of all the things they could be doing in a bed instead. Dammit, she was supposed to be feeling guilty, not aroused.

"I, ah… I'm going to do the one of your side, so… you know," she muttered as she reached the worse injury and hovered her hand over it.

"I trust you," he smiled, although she could tell he was working hard not to hiss as she dabbed at it lightly; cleaning up the blood. She didn't linger on it long, and so pulled back. She paused, though, noting a missed cut on his cheek.

"Hold still," she told him as she reached up, brushing at the wound gently. She admired his face as she did so—his strong jawline and the way his hair dangled over his brow in just the right way. She met his eyes, which watched her right back; made her abdomen tighten and the butterflies in her stomach flutter all the faster. His lips—God they were so close again—curved upwards in a smile that moved the tantalizing scar and the dark, scraggily hair that had grown around it. Her palm brushed against the scruff, and even that was enough to excite her even more. "You've grown a beard."

He grinned, "I haven't had much time to shave."

"I like it," she hummed.

"Then I'll have to forgo shaving," Ezio rumbled, his hand reaching up to caress the back of her own, which lingered with the cloth on his cheek. His other reached up to return the favor, making her heart beat a little faster. He could always do such things to her, and despite her guilt the three words lingered on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say them so badly right now, but how to do it? How to tell him everything?

"That might not be a bad idea," Catherine muttered back, watching him. A part of her just wished _he_ would make the first move—to give her the assurance she needed, but he seemed to be hesitant, too. Or was he being careful? She wasn't sure, but her excitement and hope grew as he began to shift, leaning towards her.

Only to pause as he winced, having bent his hurt side. He hissed, bringing his hand to hover over it. The motion broke whatever spell had come over them, and Catherine's cheeks flared red as her shyness returned and she focused on the work at hand instead.

"Oh, jeez—don't do that… okay, let me see… okay, it's alright… but you should probably just relax for tonight," she chuckled softly.

He smiled, but there was a touch of disappointment, "Perhaps we should—for tonight. You must be exhausted as well. You weren't without injury, either, after all. Shall I be your doctor in kind?"

"You just want to have your hands all over me," she chuckled, although noted she wouldn't mind that, actually. She kept the thought to herself, though, and picked up his plate instead. "You should eat instead—help get your strength back. Doctor's orders."

"Doctor's orders," he hummed playfully as he grabbed the dish and did as told. She, like-wise took her plate and began to eat again. All the while, though, she chastised herself for saying nothing when it counted, and tried to tell herself it was because he was hurt. It was time, though. She needed to tell him how she felt—tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. Not tonight, though; he needed to rest. He was hurt. They both were, and she _was_ exhausted.

'_Tomorrow it is,' _she told herself again, and all throughout the rest of the night as they cleaned their plates, made their way to bed, and finally settled down.

Tomorrow she would do it.

**-O-**

**March 16, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

Courage was a fleeting thing, and Catherine couldn't believe how fickle it was being for her.

She woke up determined to finally tell the young man she was in love with exactly how she felt. She had been ready the whole time she waited for him in the main room, and even as he came plodding out, sluggish from the medicine. It made him _very _groggy and somewhat nauseous, which Bianca had mentioned would be a side effect, but it had worked; his side hurt incredibly less and looked much better already. His natural healing abilities helped, too, but he was essentially only half-awake. As such, her courage faltered, and she let him rest as he needed on the couch and eat their breakfast slowly. She kept herself busy with chores and other things, such as buying food for the evening. She figured a good, home-cooked meal would do well and all, and it gave her something to do, too.

The task helped her become a little courageous again, but she, unfortunately, faltered a second time when she came back and found him sleeping. She couldn't bring herself to wake him, even if only to eat, so again she occupied herself—this time with cleaning their clothes and trying to work stains out. She supposed she could have had Fontina do it, but she needed to keep busy and to steel herself once more. She included their weapons, and once that was done she decided to write and draw instead. They owed Claudia and everyone a letter, and drawing helped ease any nerves. It all served to help her through the day as Ezio swayed between sleeping and being awake, the medicine keeping him as such, although by the evening he began to keep awake more. He felt better, too—enough so he was cheeky and pestering her once more. She enjoyed it, of course, and it made her courage grow. She only hoped, as dinner came along, and she began to prepare things, that it would stay. There was only way to know, she supposed, and the strength was tested as Ezio returned from a walk around the area, stretching as much as he could.

"How's your side doing?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she cooked the meat over the fire she had going.

Ezio smiled as he leaned against the table behind her, "Good. It doesn't hurt at all, really. I should be able to move more easily by tomorrow."

"That's great! The medicine must really be working then. Oh, and dinner's almost ready," she replied, shifting the food before pulling it off and setting it aside to cool.

"Yes, it has… although I feel so… _off_. I don't think I've ever slept so long. What are you making, by the way? It smells good—like what Annetta makes," he inquired, peering over his shoulder like a curious pup.

"It's one of her meat dishes she taught me, and Bianca did say the medicine would knock you out. Anyways, give me a few, and I'll have it done," she chuckled back, and quickly put the meat onto a plate along with the bread and fruit she'd gotten earlier. Ezio was all too happy to scarf it down, haven't not actually eaten much thanks to his long hours of sleep. It was well done, much to Catherine's pride and self-esteem, and she took an extra boost knowing the man beside her thought the same.

"Your cooking is just as good as hers—you would make a good wife," he spoke up, grinning mischievously.

"Shame I don't have any man who would make good husbands courting me," she snickered right back.

"Perhaps you are not looking hard enough, kitty-'Cat. Perhaps they are right beside you and you don't even know it," he mused in kind. Her excitement flared again, and she lingered between thinking he was telling her without saying so or messing with her. He always made it hard to tell, but she was beginning to believe it was the former. It had to be—right?

"Maybe they should stop teasing me then, and show themselves if I'm so blind," she replied as she stood and held her hand out for his empty plate. He gave it, watching her as she took it, and made for the sink in the kitchen. She kept her back to him as she set the items into the bucket of water she'd fetched. She listened; wondering if he might speak again. He was silent, though, much to her disappointment. At least, until she heard the scuff of boots against the floor. She held her breath, however stupid that might have been, and waited with a racing heart. Would he come for her? Would he say it first? Or would he leave? Would he disappoint her? There were so many questions unanswered and so many seconds going by. Fear and hope quarreled; biting, screaming, spitting, and howling inside her; neither able to win just yet.

She almost jumped right out of her skin when a firm chest pressed ever-so-slightly against her back and a pair of arms circled her on either side, braced against the wooden counters. She felt his breath on her neck, sending chill down her spine and making her abdomen throb. It was by her ear a moment later, and she could scarcely breathe as her heart thrashed against her ribs.

"Perhaps he is just worried she is teasing as well. Even men fear such things," he murmured softly, and she had to close her eyes to compose herself. It didn't help much—oh, no, she was going crazy. Her skin tingled where his breath lingered and she gripped the plates so tight she thought they might break. She thought courage had left her, but somehow, someway, she released the wooden plates and turned to face him. His face was not even an inch from hers, and his chest even closer. His scent reached her; consumed her. It was suffocating in the best way. She couldn't get enough of it. His eyes seemed to consume her; so full of a hunger she had come to know recently. She could just feel it growing stronger and stronger. Her belly ached with a want she once didn't understand, but with each second staring into his those dark, starving pupils she learned.

She wanted him. Badly.

And he wanted her.

Was that love, though? Did he _love_ her? That was the fear that plagued her, but that was why she had been gathering her courage. She had to ask. She would. She was so close.

"Then… perhaps they should both… take… a leap of… faith," she replied, almost at rasps as her hands found their way to him; started at his abdomen, but began to work upwards. He flexed under her touch; swelled his chest out. His arms pulled closer as his face did; lips and scruff brushing hers; igniting every fiber of her flesh. Shivers ran through her again and she closed her eyes. It only served to make her want grow, though, as images flashed across the blackness of her eyelids. Of what could come—of the things they could do. Of all the things she _wanted_ him to do to her. God, she wanted it so badly.

"Ezio," she breathed as his lips drew closer. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt in her anticipation. His body pressed closer; hands coming to her hips; chest touching hers; lips almost upon hers. She readied herself for the coming plunge, and welcomed it.

_BAM. BAM._

Catherine jumped—literally. She jerked up and back, and Ezio like-wise did the same, although not nearly as exaggerated. He let out a groan as the redhead looked to the door, hands still on him, but no longer clenched.

"I, uh… we should probably…"

"Must we?" he sighed, hands squeezing her sides briefly. She flushed, realizing his meaning, but the bangs came again.

"Ezio! Catherine! Open up! It's urgent!" a voice—Ugo—called.

"Dammit… go see what he wants," the young man huffed, albeit with a half-smile. She gave him one back, and headed to the door. All the while she silently cursed the thief. He had ruined a damn perfect moment. It had _better_ be good.

"Yes?" she inquired, not bothering to hide the annoyance.

"Antonio thinks something's wrong. We need your help. He apologized in advance, but it may be an emergency."

"It can't wait at all?"

Ugo made a face, "No. Again, he's sorry—we know you needed rest, but he wouldn't ask if it wasn't possibly a serious issue. He's promised more time off after this."

"Catherine, it's alright, go. I'll be here when you get back. We can… talk later," Ezio called out from behind. The redhead turned to him, heart fluttering again, but nodded and turned back to Ugo.

"Alright. Let me get my gear on, and I'll meet you in the courtyard."

Ugo nodded, and the redhead shut the door. She sighed as she went to her room to quickly change and make her way back out. She found Ezio finishing up the dishes, and she couldn't help smiling softly. At last, she had confirmation—or at least enough to solidify her hope. He had to feel something for her. They had almost proven it to each other both. They would do so properly—later.

Catherine touched his hand gently, "We'll see about that leap when I get back, okay?"

"I look forward to it," he replied, reaching over to grip hers. "Be safe, kitty-Cat."

"I will. You rest up. I'll see you soon."

He spared her a final smile, and then she left. This time, though, she did so with a confidence she had yearned so long for. She knew now for certain she could tell him. One last mission, and she would take that leap.

As soon as she was back, she was going to tell Ezio she loved him.

* * *

_I wanna make you feel how I feel when I'm listening to love songs  
I wanna take you to the peak of everything that you are  
You're everything I need tonight  
And I'm trying hard to make you want me  
But I don't wanna try too hard  
I was thinking you got what you came for  
But you're here now_

_Those four walls now are the only place that I can breathe out  
Those four walls now are home  
Those four walls now are the only place that I can feel  
Those four walls now are home_

_Falling at the hand of a perfect man  
Falling at the hand of a perfect man_

* * *

**49 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_*sits in seat with huge troll face on*_

_That SHOULD be all I put.. but I'll mention how this was actually suppose to a chapter with the whole aftermath of Ugo's urgency, but that chapter ended up too long, too, ha ha. Oh, and while, obviously, the blocking of the confession and make out and sexy times (it was gunna happen; not going to bother not spoiling that ;D) is the most important part of this... trouble brews in other areas tee hee._

_Anyways, danger looms next chapter, and with it comes a very important event in the story-and not necessarily the one you're thinking... ;D_

_*scuttles away to hide from confession blocking blacklash*_


	51. Weights & Measures

**TMWolf: **_And update time! And this is a doozey of a chapter, although it's not as long as some! Some crazy stuff happens, and it's kind of important. You'll get an idea of what by the end of it, but let's just say it's confirmed some potential questions about a certain artifact. Also, one more chapter to romance! You won't think so, but it is ;p tee hee._

_**Oh, so quick note:** I maaaaaaaaaay be late on the next update. Things all depend. I have a week vacation coming up pretty much right after when the next update will be, so I'm not yet sure if I'll get it in or not, especially with how busy work has been. I will do my best, though, but don't freak out if I take longer than usual to update! :)_

_As usual, how I write the canon and canon characters is based upon my interpretation of, well, the canon._

_Now for reviews... uuugh you guys are waaaaaaaaaaay too good to me! I love it! xD Seriously, don't be afraid to leave any comments, questions, critiques, or what not! I'm happy to receive them and give answers (unless it's spoilers!). So, for the lovely guest reviews I can't directly answer, ha ha._

_**Gaia**: You handle build ups perfectly. Just like anyone else xD Just... just wait one more chapter, ha ha. It'll be worth it._

_**Guest (1)**:_ _hehehe yisss yisssss feel the jitters! And thanks so much! xD I'm glad you enjoy my writing!_

_**Guest (2):** Haha, you are most perceptive, my dear reader. Keep a sharp eye out, and you'll have some questions answered! xD_

_**Guest (3):** Awww, they're your OTP? Yay! xD Thanks so much! I really appreciate your comments, hehehe_

_**Kise-cchi:** hehehee I do love causing my readers to potentially embrass themselves during th emiddle of the night, tee hee ID As for Ezio being jealous... well, as I've told others... er.. actually, he'll tell us some of what he did and then we'll get a proper show in future chapters heehehe LOL 'Cat is definitely savage... when she's cock blocked hurr hurr ;)_

_**Magda096:** Sorry if I got the translation wrong (I used a translator, ha ha), but... oh wow! Hi there, lovely reader from Argentina! xD Thank-you so much for reading! I'm so glad you love it! :) I update every other week, so hopefully that's "soon enough", ha ha!_

_**yassass:** Haha, Ezio's jealous side wooould be fun to see... and we just might... later on. It's a bit harder right now since we focus on Cat's POV, but I doooo promise we'll get some examples of our favorite Auditore's jealous side! As for Cristina... I'm still deciding if they'll meet again or not. I do have a potential scene in mind, ha ha. _

_I think that's it, so... this chapter is brought to you by Dry the River - Weights and Measures. I loooooooooove this song... and it's lyrics kinda match. Kinda. Sorta. Not really, but close enough xD_

_Anyways, enjoy!_

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**50 **– _Weights and Measures_

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**March 16, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

"Alright, so what's going on?" Catherine asked as she approached Ugo, the thief waiting rather impatiently for it in the courtyard. It was only now she realized there was a strain to his features—some deep worry and concern seeded there. Any ire she had towards him for ruining her moment was replaced with seriousness as he met her eyes firmly.

"We're in trouble," he began, and when she gestured for him to go on he motioned for her to follow. She nodded and did so, moving at a fast pace. "It seems your antics have caught the attention of the guards. Antonio received word that the guards have been targeting _us_ specifically, and it wasn't wrong. Already a handful of our men have been captured, and they're to be executed by tomorrow morning. We're trying to free them as we speak, but they're heavily guarded, and most of us aren't made for battle. Rosa and I are some of the best, but she's out of commission, and I can't do this on my own. Antonio is working to get everyone to safety, so we need your help badly."

Catherine nodded, "I understand. Ezio and I should have been more careful—or rather, _I _should have. My blunder must have been what got them onto us. Just tell me where."

"It's no more your fault than ours—you two only provided the final push for this," Ugo shook his head. "But to start, we know of two exact locations they're at. One by the water, the other near the farthest west bridge between the districts. I can lead you to the first, but then I have to try and help the others. There are two more, but we're not sure where they're being held—only that they're on the inside of the district or possibly on the east side."

"Alright; I'll find them then. Do we know the force we're up against?"

"The usual. Brutes, spearman, and experienced swordsman. However—do not engage them if you can help it. Antonio's orders. He wants this done with as little notice as possible. We don't need a massacre tonight."

"Finesse, right?" Catherine managed to grin slightly, and the thief returned it briefly.

"You could call it that. More so to avoid any uproar—and show the enemy we can beat them without them even knowing it. Also because our forces are stretched thin because of this. If you're caught… you're on your own."

The redhead pause, taking that in, "I… Right. Be sneaky. And careful. You're not making this easy, Ugo."

"Yes, well, when it is ever? If it helps, Antonio really did promise more time off for you—seeing as I interrupted something… _important_?" the young man mused with a touch of wryness. The memory flashed back through Catherine's mind and she flushed. Well, it had certainly been important to _her_. She and Ezio had almost kissed again, and that time she knew it would go much further. She would have let it—she wanted it to. Later, though.

"Tell him it's appreciated, and that I'll do what I can. It's only supper, so we have all night to work," she mused, glancing up to the roofs. That way would be their best bet, which meant engaging archers, although there were generally less at night.

"We _should_. The guards may change their mind if they catch wind, but I'll do what I can to buy you more time. For now, we need to get going. Are you good?"

Catherine nodded, and that was that. The thief clambered up the nearest building, and she followed after. The city was still rather busy with it barely being the nightly hours, but it was definitely getting dark and torches served as the main source of light. It was enough once she adjusted, and the two of them skirted across the rooftops with ease. There were luckily few archers to worry about as they made for the district boundary, although there would certainly be more further in. It was a nice reprieve, though, and allowed them to reach the first location quickly enough.

It was a small open area with a well in the center of a circle of homes, rather than stores or work buildings. Although, these ones were either empty or everyone was staying wisely inside. Catherine imagined the latter as a platoon of guards came patrolling in, having passed through a blockade of two with swords. She counted off two spears in the platoon, and the other three thankfully more swords. She could handle a single brute, but they were difficult. Of course, that wasn't to say this would be easy—especially when the cage housing the two captured thieves wasn't in a good spot. No, she couldn't quite see any decent cover, but if the platoon was on a pattern, then they stood a chance.

"Hang on," the redhead whispered when Ugo made as if to head down. He looked towards her expectantly. She motioned to the guards, "Wait, and watch them. We need to see if they head back early or not. If you can, though, signal the thieves so they know to keep quiet, but be ready. If you need to leave to help the others, I can pick the lock. I do know a little about thievery."

Her companion grinned a little, "So it seems. Here, a few extra picks. You'll need them."

"_Hey_. I'm not terrible at it, thanks. Anyways, signal if you can and get going. I'll try and get to the others as soon as I can," she snickered as she took the items and stored them where she had the rest. She honestly really wasn't terrible, although certainly not as good as a thief. It would be useful here, though, since she would be on her own. Ugo gave off a short series of sounds that missed the guards' attention, but the incarcerated men stiffened and then returned to how they were. Ugo gave her a nod of confirmation and then he was gone; his feet only making the lightest of pitters across the tiles as he vanished into the night. Catherine let out a deep breath of air as she turned her focus to the ground below and watched, and waited.

She gave it five minutes, and deemed the pattern made. It only gave her maybe three minutes to do what she needed, but it would have to do. She had smoke bombs handy, which would keep the guards coughing for at most a minute longer if her aim was good enough and they inhaled more than they should. She kept the notion in mind as she skirted towards her allies and then paused; waiting delicately on the edge. Her eyes honed in on the guards, watching their every move. Only when the final man had vanished around the corner—she started a timer in her mind—she leapt down as quickly and quietly as she could. Four minutes seemed like seconds now as she dropped beside the prison—the thieves all perked up at once, but kept quiet with one look from her—and shuffled for her picks. She worked as quickly as she could, tinkering it with it as softly as was possible. Her heart raced with each passing moment, and she could just imagine her time was up; that something had changed; that something had gone wrong and she'd have to fight or flee and the thieves would die.

But then the lock gave and she pulled the gate free.

"Thank-you, friend!" one whispered softly.

"Thank me once you're safe—hurry and climb! Go, go! They'll be back soon!" she hissed back and lead the way up where she'd come. They said no more as they obeyed, and soon they were on the roofs; safely hidden in the dark. Catherine paused to wait and see what would happen as the thieves went on. She couldn't help grinning a little when the head spearman paused, balking, and then the uproar came. All the rest converged, and the chaos erupted. Questions of what the hell had happened and how and who was responsible. Blame was soon given and word of how everyone was going to be punished. Then rumbles of "assassin" came about, and Catherine took that as time to head out. Her work had been done; the men were afraid of what she—and Ezio—could do without their even being aware.

_'Okay, so they're free… Ugo said there's one on the farthest west bridge between districts, so… that way,' _Catherine mused, locating a familiar building that was in the right direction. She didn't know the area perfectly, but she at least knew the general directions and what the thief had been talking about. As such, she raced across the roofs towards the bridge. She avoided the archers as best she could, although could not help having to off one who had taken her by surprise. A quick jab into the gut and he was gone, leaving her with a scraped elbow and knee when she'd tripped and rolled in surprise from a wayward arrow. It was her only mishap, thankfully, and she arrived at the spot. The thieves weren't quite at the bridge, but a simple scout around located them. These ones were shackled to posts, though, which would make getting them out difficult, even if it was only two.

Catherine chewed on her lip as she made note of the guards, whom weren't moving in a patrol. There were less of them, but both main ones were spears and a third that _was_ walking around back and forth was a brute. This wasn't going to be fun.

The redhead shuffled through her throwing knives, counting off five. They'd be worthless on the brute's armor, which made him essentially a tank. It wasn't much better on the paladins, but it was still more than the big guy. She would have to get close, too; the spears made keeping swords length away impossible, but the brute would make it worse if he joined in. She had a smoke bomb, though—she could use that to get a heads start and assassinate the brute. Yes, that could work. She could use the resulting confusion of the smoke to strike another spear, and potentially leave one remaining. Of course, everything could go wrong, too, but she would adapt. She was an Assassin, after all. This was what they did.

Double checking to make sure she hadn't missed any other variables—more guards, to be precise—she set her plan into motion. Breathing in slowly, she checked her hidden blades and then pulled her smoke bomb free. She pulled up her collar some to cover her mouth better as well—just for the first part. Timing it just right, she tossed the bomb and flittered down at the same time. It went off, and with it came shouts of surprise and coughing. A second set of coughs joined in, and she only hoped it was one of the spearman having come rushing over and gotten caught up in the bomb. Regardless, she kept her eyes squinted as she entered the smoke—it still stung a little—and approached the brute. He was practically hacking up his lungs as she came over and stuck her hidden blade up into his throat. His coughing turned to gurgles, and she moved on. She could just barely make out another figure, which grew more visible as the smoke faded. She lunged, shoving her blade into his gut. He staggered, clutching at his stomach as the blood pooled out, and then dropped to his knees.

"Wha—oh my God!"

Catherine spun on her heel, blade still extended and dripped with red, and faced the final spearman. He had not been affected by the smoke, which was fading away with a light breeze. Her eyes still stung some from it despite her preventative measures, but she could make out his shock—and anger. He snarled as he charged, and his fury made him easier to dodge. She used her favorite tactic; grasping the pole arm to keep him in place and then rammed the hidden blade beneath his armor, into the lung. He gasped and stepped back, touching at the growing stain and subsequent pool of blood where she'd struck. He looked to her, rasping some, and made to charge again, but she dodged. He tripped and fell, and he was done.

The redhead blinked away the remains of the smoke from her eyes as she approached the men, whom thanked her profusely. She urged them to be quiet—just in case—as she worked the manacles and managed to get the first free. He made a point to keep watch as she worked the lock on the second, but when she took too long he offered his services. He was much faster than she was, and both were free at last.

"Help me hide the bodies before you go—make less of a scene," Catherine called out before they could race off. They agreed, and while the two spearman were—relatively—easy to haul towards a large haystack not far away, the brute took all three of them to move. It was done, though, and she gave an appreciative nod to the two thieves. "Alright, we're good. Hurry and return to base. I would use the roofs to avoid attention—I don't want to have to come save your asses again."

One grinned, "Our pride couldn't handle it."

"Thank-you again, friend," the other chuckled, and they vanished into the alleyways, hopefully heeding her advice.

That was two groups down, which would leave about two remaining—those in the inner part of the district. They would be more difficult to find, but if she was lucky, she could catch a thief on the roof or even Ugo, both of whom might know where the thieves were being held. She noted the moon wasn't even halfway through the sky, so she still had plenty of time. She was definitely glad she'd eaten before this, though—she was going to be starving and exhausted when she got back. The thought of having to wait until tomorrow to confess to Ezio flickered through her mind and brought annoyance and disappointment, but then she laughed. She could scarcely believe she was pouting about such a thing on a mission—perhaps she was more of a woman than she thought!

Chuckling softly, Catherine climbed back up to the roofs and headed off. She sobered as she raced, searching for the other two groups. It took longer than she liked to find the first of the two, and it took a keen eye to notice the unusual amount of light in a small town square, but sure enough she spotted the trio of thieves sealed within an iron prison. Like before it had a lock and a platoon of guards that was going to make it difficult. She pressed onward, though; she would do her duty.

And she did, but not with the same ease as before. She would have a new scar to add to her growing collection on her side, which stung as the night air brushed against the open wound. It was not bleeding terribly, but she adjusted her belt to press against it some after she applied a bit of cloth there. She had a nice bruise on her smarting cheek, too, but it had been deserved and was much better than death. She _really_ hated brutes, though, and was just glad it was over and she'd freed the thieves, whom were thankfully more than willing to hide the bodies for her. She had hoped to not kill the whole group—especially not when she was on her own—but she'd miscalculated and a fight had erupted. She was lucky to be alive, really, and it had only been the Clock that prevented her head from being sliced off. She had no headache like the last time, but having it activate made her recall how she should be more cautious with it—in case the earlier incident happened again.

Sighing, the redhead frowned down at the device she held in her hands, which had cooled from its earlier use. She touched at her nose, which had a small trickle of blood coming down from it. It was most likely from the punch, but lately she was starting to think there was more to it than that. She hoped not, but she couldn't be so carefree about it anymore—not after it had almost ended up with her and Ezio killed. Granted, that would have been counterproductive to its purpose. Then again, did she still know its purpose anymore? God, she hated the thing.

"No point dwelling on it. One more group to go… and dammit this thing stings," she growled slightly, touching at the wound. She shook it off, though, and continued on. There would be at least one group left and that should hopefully be the last of the captured thieves. If not, then she knew she'd need to take a break soon. She could feel her fatigue coming on, and not just due to her injury. She still had plenty of time before sunrise, so it wouldn't put much pressure on the mission, so she was certainly determined to do so—after the last group.

"Tss!"

The redhead stopped short on the rooftop she'd clambered onto it, and shot her eyes to the right. She peered close, trying to make out what was in the shadows, but the figure soon emerged to give her the answer: Ugo. He looked a little scuffed up himself, but holding together well. She approached him with a nod.

"Ya'lright?"

"Never been better. You?" he mused, motioning to her dark-stained side.

She chuckled, "Peachy. Did you take care of the last group of thieves then?"

"Yes, and it should be the last, but it couldn't hurt to do a recon. Are you good for it?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Split it east and west?"

"Sure. I'll sweep the west. Once you're done, hurry back to your home and be sure neither you nor Ezio come out until we give the all clear. It probably won't be until tomorrow, though," the thief told her, to which she nodded.

"Got it. Stay safe, Ugo," she replied, and he bid her the same.

Running hurt now, so she kept to a light trot, although that wasn't much better. It would hurt until she could rest, she knew with a great deal of annoyance, but that would come only once she was done. The only thing left to do was just suffer through it and pop a quick vial of medicine to help numb the ache. It did the trick and made roaming the district much easier. She tried to be as thorough, yet also strived to be as quick as she could with time a factor, but her search ultimately came up with nothing. She did not spot any unusual surplus of torch light, no thieves shackled or cages, and no groups of guards patrolling anything of interest. What thieves had been captured were freed, and it seemed word was starting to get around, too. She had noticed there was an unease on some guards' faces, and occasionally she heard a murmur of how punishment would be severe.

_'Good,' _Catherine mused as she walked along a roof's edge, watching the guards as they moved through the crowd rather hurriedly. Something was amuck, and she just knew it was due to the chaos she had caused. As such she couldn't help smirking a little before turning away and heading back towards to the thieves' Den. She still kept an eye on the streets, though; making note of the guards' behavior—just in case. If any got too close to home she'd potentially have to deal with them. For now, though, it seemed they weren't heading the same way as her.

That being the case, and with there were still archer about, the redhead decided to make her way to the ground. Her wound was covered, so it wouldn't give her away, and it was too dark to make out the wound on her cheek beneath her hood. The crowd was much lighter, so she didn't have that cover, but she wasn't concerned as she walked along the street. She supposed it was a little odd there was a lack of guards on the ground, but she chalked it up to the men being called to investigate her "work". She supposed she could ask Antonio once she made it back.

Catherine had to finally pause as she rounded a bend and noticed a light crowd outside a building—a familiar one, she realized. It took a moment, but the ornate design and the sudden movement that revealed scantily clad young ladies gave it away. The brothel. She rolled her eyes with a slight chuckle, noting it was rather busy tonight, and that perhaps _that_ was where most of the guards had gone. Their business was useful to an Assassin, though; she knew they should try and form an alliance at some point with the ladies. They needed to find the Madame of the city first, however. It shouldn't be too hard, but it might have to wait until the thieves were situated.

The redhead turned to continue on, but paused when a loud ring of giggles went up. She glanced over, somewhat curious, and then did a double take. Her chest clenched as her heart dropped when she recognized a figure within the gaggle of girls emerging from the building. He was in a casual vest as opposed to his unique look he normally used, but she would recognize the figure anywhere—especially when the light illuminated his unmistakable face.

It was Ezio.

At the brothel.

Smiling at them.

Laughing with them.

They were laughing back.

Batted their eye lashes.

Tried enticing him with their breast.

It made her chest hurt—more than it ever had before.

He must have felt her staring—sensed eyes on him—because he looked up, and she knew at once he'd seen her. She didn't stay long enough to see if guilt came over him or not. She spun on her heel and took off at a dead run.

She'd been a damned fool. She had let herself believe the man loved her—that he had decided to be with her and _only_ her. She had believed he could be with one woman, but she was wrong. Why else would he be at the brothel? Why else would he be so talking with the courtesans? Why else would he be out and about and not waiting for her? God, she was so stupid. She should never have let herself get in so deep. She should have never had let Leonardo convince her he might feel something. She should never have kissed him. She should never have let herself fall in love.

But she had.

And now the cut on her side hardly compared to the throb in her chest and the twisting of her stomach.

Her lungs burned as she ran, not caring where she went or who might notice. She just needed to keep away from him—to get where he couldn't come after her and try to explain things and make some excuse. It never felt far enough, though, and the only reason she stopped was when a quick, sharp pain went through her side. Only then did she stop and lean against the near wall and fall to the ground. Only then did she let the back of her head hit the wall and allow hot tears to trickle down her face. She bit her lip, not wanting to let out a sob, but it was hard. She wanted so badly to believe what she'd seen wasn't true—that it was all a misunderstanding, but how could it be? How could it not be anything more than the man she loved showing he didn't feel the same? Surely that had to be it. God, she hoped not, but she couldn't go see him to ask—not now. Maybe not ever. Oh, of course she'd have to go back, but it was too much right now.

So she stayed there in the alley, one hand clutching her side where she'd felt the pain—and to keep her wound from hurting—and the other at her forehead as she let the tears fall.

Why did love have to be so awful sometimes?

Catherine wanted to stay there for the rest of the night; to remain still and unnoticed and be left to wallow in her self-pity. She wanted to cry her heart out before she faced the reality of truth waiting for her back at the Den. Fate, however, had other plans, and just as she considered letting out a sob, she heard the sound of boots against ground and harsh words being spoken. It was from the main road, which she thankfully was hidden from in her alleyway. She quickly bit her lip hard to keep from sobbing, wiped her eyes, and came closer. She knew it had to be guards by the sound of their feet, and, sure enough, a large regiment was coming through, led by a Captain. It was a lot more guards than she would have ever thought to see, and it shot fear right through her. Any concern about a broken heart were shoved aside as she focused on them.

They stopped not far away, and another group of soldiers soon joined them, followed by a third a minute or so later. The redhead narrowed her eyes, heart racing with anticipation as all kinds of questions ran through her mind.

"Alright, is everyone here? And are the others in place?" the Captain inquired to a scout, whom had come up beside him. He was panting lightly, as if having sprinted to deliver an urgent message. He probably was.

"Yes, sir. The others are in place, and everyone else is here, sir!" the lithe man replied with a nod.

The Captain grinned, "Excellent. And we're sure we have the location of the den?"

"Affirmative. We followed a group that escaped and saw Antonio de Magianis. It's their headquarters, sir."

"Perfect. Then tonight we can finally be rid of these rats. Alright, men. Spread out to your spots—we'll corner and slaughter them where they nest," the leader snarled, and a cheer rang up from the group.

Catherine didn't stay to hear more.

She pumped her legs even harder to make it back to the Den. If she thought seeing Ezio there had been awful, then this was a nightmare. The entirety of the thieves were in trouble, and they had fallen right into the trap. How had they not guessed the captured men were to lure them out and lead the enemy right into their heart? She supposed it didn't matter anymore; all that did was reaching the Den and warning the others, and she thanked God she wasn't far away. She dared to say she made it back in record time and practically barreled into Ugo and Antonio, whom were directing thieves to their homes and relaying what was to be done to hold until morning.

"You have to get out! Now!" she rasped between gasps of air as she clutched at Ugo's shirt, whom helped steady her.

Antonio's brow furrowed, "What are you talking about? What is going on?"

"The guards—they—shit—they know where you are! They know the Den is—is here!"

"_What_?!"

She sucked in much needed air, "I just overheard a Captain talking to a big group of at least thirty, maybe more, and—and it's not the only one apparently. They used the thieves to lure us out. Followed them back when released. They know you're here, and—and they're coming. They're coming to destroy it all. You have to get out _now_."

"Fuck! Ugo, hurry! Rally the others and get them out—get help for the wounded and elderly. I will see to our plans," Antonio barked, jabbing at the thief, whom did as told at once. The thief leader, meanwhile, raced to his office—no doubt to hide or get rid of anything incriminating. Shouts began to ring out as men were roused from their homes, and soon there was a great deal of bustling going on. Catherine paid them no mind as she looked to her home and noted the lights were out. The memory of Ezio with the women crossed her mind, but despite what pain he had caused and the anger and sadness she felt for it, she burst inside. However, the young man was still gone. A part of her was relieved, but then she grew terrified. He wouldn't know. He could come back here when the guards arrived, and they might slaughter him. He had no equipment or weapons and he was hurt. She had to do something. She had to find him, but she wouldn't know where to look right now. She did know one thing, though—where the guards would be around, or at least where they were heading to.

An idea struck her. Not a good one, but it was all she could think to do right now.

The redhead hurried upstairs to his room where she found his things. She made quick work of hiding them as best she could, in the event the guards came searching, and then rushed back out. She found Ugo at once, the thief directing others, and made a beeline for him.

"Ugo! Ugo, wait!" she shouted, grasping at his sleeve. As soon as he turned, she pointing out into the main alleyway. "Ezio's still out there. I don't know where, but I last saw him at the brothel. He doesn't know what's happening, and he might get caught. I need one of you to find him and keep him safe."

"I can do that, but wouldn't it be better if you—?"

"I'm going to buy you all time. Just please find him for me. Keep him safe. _Please_."

The thief regarded her for a long moment before nodding, "Alright. I'll see to it. Let Antonio know what you're doing, though, and good luck. But Catherine… don't bite off more than you can chew."

"Thank-you, and I won't," she replied, although she wasn't so sure of the latter. Oh, no her idea was very much so biting off more than she could chew, but she was the only one who could do it. The redhead made for the leader's office, and there she found him hiding papers and books in hidden compartments or burning them. He paused when he saw her, potentially surprised, but then continued on. "Antonio, I'm going to go stop the guards—or at least as many as I can."

This time he stopped and stared, "What? Catherine that is suicide. What are you talking about?"

"Don't ask how because I can't tell you, but I can keep the guards away—at least long enough for you all to get to safety."

"That's too dangerous—even for you. We all just need to escape to safe locations outside the district," the man replied, shaking his head.

"The force is too big and your thieves aren't fighters like Ezio and I. They can't take them on."

"And neither can you—especially not alone. Not even with Ezio could you handle as many guards as you said you saw. No, just escape with the others."

"Antonio, I'm asking you to trust me on this. I'm not going to be able to kill all of them, no—but I can _distract_ them. Give them something to chase. They might not know me exactly, but they do know the Assassins are here, and once I kill some… they'll follow. I know the district well enough now to avoid them."

The thief regarded her closely, biting his lip. He didn't want to agree, but he understood the gravity of things. His people were in danger. If the guards got here before they could all move—and no one knew when they were moving—they could be ruined. She knew he didn't want her to sacrifice herself, though; to lose an ally, and she had to admit she didn't entirely want to do this either. The plan involved her artifact, and she was afraid to use it. She didn't doubt so much about if it would work or not, but rather what it might do to her after. She saw no better option, though—in part, because she was afraid for Ezio. As much as her heart ached in the worst way about him right now, she feared for his safety. She couldn't watch him die.

"Alright," Antonio sighed at last. "But do not push yourself beyond your means. Do what you can—buy what all you can, but do not let it cost your life. We can always recover so long as we survive."

"I understand. Be safe yourself. I'll find a safe place when I need to," Catherine replied before turning, and heading off at a run again.

Her side ached again, but she ignored it as she made her way back to where the Captain and large group was. She hoped the number was smaller than she'd thought, or they'd at least spread out, but no matter what she still had to do what she had to do. Less guards around would make it easier, though, but if experience had taught her anything, it was that life never made things that way.

She slowed as she heard boots approaching, thankfully not far from when she'd first found them, which meant the Thieves had more time than she thought. That was a relief, and so she allowed herself a few moments to steel herself. She dared a peek around the corner, and was even more relieved to find just a small group of four approaching. No doubt there were more, but this she could handle—just three swords and a scout.

"This way; we'll set up and wait for the others at the location and then move in at the signal," the one in the lead called out, coming ever closer to her location. Since she didn't have to face an armada, she knew she could turn this into a goose chase, which was far better. She could potentially not even need to rely on the Clock, which she kept tucked away as she readied her hidden blade instead. Breathing out slowly, she listening carefully, and as soon as she saw the toe of a boot come into view, she lunged.

Steel met flesh, and the leader of the ground dropped as blood pooled from his neck. Shock gave her the advantage and she downed a second swordsman before she had to dodge a sword slash. She blocked another with her armored bracer and stabbed his arm, causing the weapon to the clatter to the ground. She ended him not a second later and then faced the last—the scout. He was a bit trickier, and their bout took a few eternal seconds longer, but she finally struck him with a fist across the face, stunning him, and then shoved her hidden blade into his gut. There was no time to give their rights as she continued on at a light jog further in. She could hear shouts of confusion, the fight having caught the attention of the others nearby. Sure enough, a spearman appeared from an alleyway, saw her, and shouted as he pointed.

"Here! Assassin!"

Despite that being what she wanted, Catherine cursed as she pushed into a sprint to force the guards to chase after her. She looked back maybe once or twice to make sure they did, but then had to focus on the path ahead as more guards appeared, having heard the commotion as well. On one hand, she was glad her plan was working. On the other, dread was becoming a very heavy, powerful thing. There were at least eight guards racing after her now, and she knew she couldn't kill them on her own. Maybe with Ezio, but even then that was tricky. She was leading them away from the Den, though, and she was encountering more and more, which meant more time for her allies. Still, she was beginning to think she should have thought through things better.

She especially thought so as she came across a blockade of five. They had been just in a huddle, but once they saw her and the group after her—they shouted for them to stop her, to boot—they spread out, weapons ready. She threw a throwing knife in response, hitting a guard in the face, but despite her best efforts, a scout in the group tackled her as she tried to get by. They tumbled and rolled, and although she managed to stab him in the face with her hidden blade as she got back up, she was in a great deal of trouble. The remaining three of the five were approaching, and the others were right on their heels. It made their numbers at least ten, and hers a measly one. She reached for a smoke bomb out of instinct, but cursed when she realized there were none left. She hadn't bothered to grab more. She had no real way to escape—especially not when more came from behind to surround her.

"Forget the damned thieves—kill the bitch Assassin! They're the ones causing trouble!" one of the spearman snapped, brandishing his weapon at her.

"Wait—what of the other? Isn't there a man?" another asked.

A brute sneered, "We'll use her corpse to lure him out and cut his throat."

_'Not if I can help it,' _Catherine hissed back silently, although her heart was racing wildly. Her Clock grew warm in response, and she willed it to keep going. She was going to need it now more than ever—there was no way she could escape this. The artifact responded to her request and grew scalding hot. Normally she would pull it free, but she knew she'd need both hidden blades as the guards began to converge, but then suddenly stopped and turned into strands of light. The painful pressure in her skull followed right after, but she grit her teeth and approached the nearest. Guilt gnawed at her as she sliced the strands on his throat, but she had no choice. Or rather, she told herself this was for the best. Letting them go would only cause more trouble—they would just hunt down the thieves and be more trouble later. Killing them now would only make things easier. So, although she loathed doing this—slaughtering these men so easily—she trudged on.

The work wracked her body with pain, and each step was heavier than the next, but still she went on. She cut all she could, vision faltering with each, and then she would continue moving. She didn't really know where she was going, per se, but her body seemed to. That, or maybe the Clock did. Whatever the case, things were blurred as she walked through the realm of strands and lights, finding guards as she went. Some were brutes; others with spears or swords. Some looked to be Captains or scouts; it didn't truly matter. It all just blurred together. She would cut the strings at their necks and go on.

Stop, cut, move. Stop, cut, move. Stop, cut, move.

One by one; it was like her limbs moved on their own, and at one point she didn't recall how she got to where she was. Thinking was too hard with how her head throbbed painfully and felt like the weight of the world was on it. She wasn't sure how she lifted her arms to slice anything at some point, and she didn't see how she could move her legs anymore. Her body burned and ached and breathing was pure agony.

A final slice and her am fell limply at her side. Darkness started to cover the edge of her sight as she kept moving, although she staggered far more than before. She felt a trickle of something down her face, but she could not lift a hand to touch. She tasted copper a moment later as she stumbled into an open area, no more guards and lights around her. The heat flared and she let out a shriek of pain she didn't realize she had the strength to give. The weight suddenly lifted as the lights vanished, and the sensation brought up hot fluid with it. She coughed and hacked as the taste of copper filled her mouth completely. She stumbled again, and although her foot hit the ground, she could no longer keep her weight up. Her legs collapsed and she found herself staring at the sky, the moon and the stars staring right back. She coughed—again there was that familiar taste and smell. She couldn't muster the strength to even sit up, and so lay there, gazing blearily at the buildings around her. Darkness continued to consume her sight.

Briefly, the fear of dying came to her. It sent a shot of ice through her, and regret followed in suit. Yet, at the very least, she knew she had succeeded. It helped, although she still wished she could have told Ezio how she felt even if he didn't feel the same. She just hoped he and everyone else might forgive her for leaving them without a proper good-bye.

Consciousness faded quickly, although remained just long enough for a familiar figure to call out of her name and to feel herself lifted. After that, though, there was only darkness.

* * *

**50 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Aaaaaaaand that's that._

_SO._

_Fun times._

_Who wants to kill me now? :'D Should probably update early or at least definitely on time and not late or I'll have ya'll after me, huh? hehehe_

_Anyways, soooooooooo we got some new stuff to think on. Was Ezio at the brothel for... well, sex? Had he been lying about his feelings for 'Cat? ANd what's going on with the Clock? What has it done to our poor girl!? And what will be the fate of the Thieves? Did they all make it out? Will Catherine's efforts have been in vain? _

_Guess we'll find out, hehe c:_

_Until the next update._

_P.S. Romance is on the way, as impossible as it seems :p_


	52. Bless the Broken Road I

**TMWolf: **_Alrighty update time! I wasn't actually sure I would get this in since things have been hectic at work, but I'm finally done and get to go on my vacation to visits friends, yay! Decided to go ahead and not make ya'll wait for the chapter even though I hadn't written the next one already. However, that does mean part II of this three-yes, THREE parter, will not be for a while. Not sure how long, but probably no update for three weeks. Maybe. It all depends, really, but we'll see how it goes. In the meantime... hopefully this chapter will tide you over ;)_

_As always... how I write the canon is based upon my interpretation of it!_

_Now for reviews... also as always-you guys are sooooooooooooooooooo good to me! Seriously, your reviews always bring a smile to my face, and I'm so glad ya'll are enjoying this story! :) Please don't hesitate to leave any comments, ask any questions, or even write a critique! I'm happy to hear what you have to say or answer anything (if it doesn't spoil the story)! To answer my lovely guests, though:_

**_FA1CON93: _**_Hahaha the revelation will be this chapter, so hold tight! I love your guesses, though! Luckily for you, you'll get the answers to all of them this chapter! ;) _

**_Guest: _**_HERE MORE FOR YOU! XD_

_**infectioner751:** I couldn't reply directly, so guess I'll do it here hehe. No worries! I don't take it seriously, and I totally understand the feeling xD I enjoy the love/hate I instill in people, so feel free to say so ha ha. Your sweet release is coming, though, promise!_

_**Kise-cchi**: Hmm... as far as I know, no! No one has done any fanart. Or, well, technically **I **have made fanart... but I guess then it's not fanart lol! I would be so totally honored if you made some, though! Seriously, please go ahead! xD I won't stop you, ha ha. And awww-you're making get all mushy! You're going to turn me into a puddle with kudos like that staaaaahp! xD *flails*_

**_Laurel:_**_ Thanks so much! Well, you won't need to wonder for much longer-you'll get your answers very soon! ;)_

**_Rebel:_**_ Hehehe I do love to torture ;) And aww, thanks so much! I'm so glad you think so! I love your hypothesis about the Clock, too! Keep on thinking on it! There's going to more hints and revelations to come about it, so keep on at it! xD And I hope I keep ya'll suspense! I gotta keep ya'll coming back for more ;)_

_Okay that's all the reviews, so... Rascal Flatts - Bless the Broken Road is the chapter title for this three parter, and the lyrics fit perfectly. Big thanks to my friend Captain Alice Hook for giving it to me! She's writing an AltairxOC fic, Firewall! Go read it, too! :'D_

_Now, enjoy guys!_

* * *

**51 **\- _Bless the Broken Road I_

* * *

**March 20, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

Things hurt.

That was the first thing Catherine was aware of when consciousness returned to her. Her entire body ached, and it felt like a huge weight was on her—at least an entire planet. Her lungs ached when she tried to suck in air, and the light, despite being just through the slits of a curtain, agitated her eyes. She closed them and let out a soft groan, and noted she sounded a little hoarse. Not much, but enough. Weakly, she lifted her arm and brought it to her face. It was a labored effort, but not as much as she had thought it would be. She hoped that meant her fatigue was only temporary and she would be able to sit up soon enough.

She was starving, too, she realized. And thirsty. How long had she been out? Hours? Maybe. It had to be midday now. Or had it been days? Weeks? She _felt_ like she'd been out for that long. God, what had happened? It was hard to think back, but the memory was there; she just had to scrounge through it a bit more.

There.

Flashes of images—mostly of the lights. They had been everywhere and she'd cut so many. Occasionally the world went back to normal and she recalled the burning agony that had consumed her. Her memory was spotty, though, and it occurred to her that it was possibly because she hadn't been conscious the whole time. She certainly didn't remember going to all the different spots her mind brought back to her. She also didn't remember how many men she had killed. It was more than one—at least five, but she had a feeling it was far more. The notion made her stomach churn unhappily and she regretted what she had done. Yet, at the same time, she knew it was what she had to do. It had been the only way to save everyone.

They _had_ been saved—right?

Catherine made to push herself up, but the struggle was immense and she fell back down the first time. She hissed as she paused, but then lifted her arms back to her side. They shook as she pushed, eyes squeezed shut and teeth grit, but slowly she eased up from the mattress. She let out a deep sigh as she leaned back against the headboard and let her head fall on it. She took in slow breaths, steeling herself, and then properly opened her eyes. She had to blink a little to get used to the dim light, and then looked around.

She didn't recognize the room. It certainly wasn't the one back in the thieves' Den, nor was it Ezio's. It wasn't the one in Fontina's place, and she didn't think it was from the Den at all. The material of the bed alone was too lavish in comparison, and the walls were lined with book shelves and paintings—ones that were somewhat familiar. Where was she? Better yet, who had brought her here? Pressing through her memories she drew up the one right as she had lost consciousness, and recalled a figure of light. They had called out to her, she knew, and she thought they had looked familiar, but the light made it impossible to tell. They must have known her, though, and been a friend—how else was she alive? How else would she be in a nice bed, and in new clothes at that? How else could she not be dead?

The redhead glanced to her nightstand, and it was then a flicker of recognition came over her. She knew the tiny little model that was standing there—a miniature carved from wood by her favorite artist. It was one of Leonardo's little "fun" sculptures; this one a small dog. She managed to get it into her hands and touch at it, taking in what it meant—that she was in Leonardo's home. His workshop. This was most likely the guest room. So did that mean her friend was the one who found her? God that must have been a fright for him. No doubt he was worried sick. Did anyone else even know where she was? Did the Thieves? Did Ezio? She needed to get up and tell them.

"Or not," she grunted as she tried to move, but found it took way too much effort. In fact, it practically exhausted her and she had to lean back against the headboard after she collapsed. Well, this was going to be troublesome, but at least her throat and lungs didn't hurt when she spoke. Her head shot up when she heard the door open, though—she winced slightly as the quick motion made her dizzy—and couldn't help smiling when a familiar face appeared.

"Ah—! Catherine! You are awake! I cannot believe it!" Leonardo exclaimed, racing over, and embracing her at once. The redhead made a short yelp instinctively, pain shooting through her, and the artist released her, eyes wide with concern. "Oh, no, I am so sorry! Please forgive me—where are you hurt? Do you feel alright? Please, do not move much. You must be exhausted! You were asleep for almost four days!"

"Wait—_days_? Four _days_?" Catherine balked, and Leonardo's excitement finally settled. He stood back upright, a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

"Yes—nearly four. I… well, we feared you might… not wake up at all. The doctor was unsure of what was wrong and there had been so much blood, but your external injuries were not bad at all—in fact they already healed, but you were so weak and sickly…"

The redhead sighed as she shut her eyes for a moment and then looked to the artist, "Leo, I, uh… I don't remember everything from that night I passed out. I thought I remember someone calling out to me, but…"

"It was I," Leonardo smiled lightly this time. "I heard a commotion outside. There was an uproar in the city, and when I came out to see what it was I… well, you suddenly appeared and collapsed. There was blood all on you, and I knew I had to get you inside before anyone else noticed you. Thankfully none were around, and I was able to carry you inside. I called for a doctor to tend to you as soon as I could, and then I managed to find Ezio. He sent for a woman I did not know, but she changed your clothes and bandages and apparently knew of medical remedies, too."

"Fontina," Catherine murmured, earning a curious look from her friend. "She's a… she's an ally. Part of the Thieves Guild. She's like their care taker or something. Wait... you said… Ezio? He's okay?"

"Yes, he is doing very well. He hardly left your side. In fact, I had to force him away to eat something not an hour ago. I think he fell asleep instead. He was slumped over on the table when I last saw him, anyways. Good grief, he almost worried himself as sick as you," her companion chuckled, bringing a blush to her cheeks. Catherine's heart raced a little, too, and skipped a beat as more memories returned—specifically those about the young man; of how he'd been at the brothel; of how he'd been flirting. Or she was sure he had been. Yet, he was so worried about her. That meant he cared, right? But then why? Why was he with those women?

"Catherine?"

The redhead's eyes shot up to meet the artist, whom looked concern. She smiled sheepishly and waved it off.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought."

"It is no trouble, and now let me go wake Ezio. He will be so happy to see you have woken and are alright! I will see about getting you a meal, too," Leonardo beamed, and before she could stop him, he was gone out the door. Catherine groaned, not sure what she was going to do. All her plans had been waylaid by her venture and what she had seen, and now she wasn't sure if she was going to be angry, sad, or feel nothing at all when he came. She dreaded it all the same, and the feeling only grew worse and worse with each passing second until, at last, the door opened again.

She held her breath when she saw him, standing there in his white shirt and dark pants; hair loosened and unkempt like his clothes; an unshaven stubble; a few dark lines under his eyes. He looked almost as haggard as she was, but his dark irises lit up at the sight of her. Whatever had made him pause before released its hold and he came right over. She looked down at first, nervous suddenly, but glanced up when he sat down beside her. The second their eyes met he pulled her into his arms, albeit far more gently than Leonardo. The artist must have told him about her weak condition, and so while he held her close, he did not keep it too tight. His head buried into her neck and he let out a deep sigh. Despite her earlier apprehension and the anger she had felt that night, she managed to lift her arms and return the embrace; grasping at his shirt to keep her limbs up. She let her head fall onto his shoulder, too, and closed her eyes. Truthfully, she knew she couldn't not want this—couldn't not savor every second of it. She still loved him.

Catherine didn't know how long they stayed like that, but he finally pulled away, although kept his hands on her shoulders; steadying her. One hand reached up to cup her cheek, eyes searching for something—for answers, perhaps.

"You're really alright," he murmured, and even his voice sounded tired.

She breathed out slowly, leaning into his touch as she nodded, "Yeah. Weak… and really tired… but I'm okay."

"Thank God… I was… I thought… I thought I lost you this time—truly lost you. The doctor and Fontina didn't know what was wrong. They said you bled from inside and then you took with fever…" he went on, shoulders sagging with his worry laid bare. He let out a sigh, as if releasing the last of what held him down, but it was not to be as he looked at her again. This time there was a hint of determination and he squeezed her shoulder gently. "Catherine, what happened that night? Antonio said you made some plan to stop the guards, but then no one knew what was going on in the chaos. I tried to come find you after you saw me, but Ugo found me first and said I had to hide, but then the screams and madness started. People are saying they saw a phantom fighting the guards, and then Leonardo… he found you hurt… what happened?"

"I, ah," she began, looking down briefly and grasping at the bed sheets. "Well… I overheard a group of guards mentioning they were going to overrun the Den—that the thieves they'd captured were just to lure us out and track us back to where we were staying. So I told Antonio and he got everyone out, and I decided to help buy them time. And…. Well, I did. I used all our tricks to get as many as I could. I, ah…. I don't know how many I did, but it seems like everyone made it out okay?"

He nodded, "They did. We lost no one—just almost you. Catherine, why? Why did you do it alone? Why did you put yourself in such danger?"

"I—I had to. It was... It was my duty to keep them all safe—the thieves, Antonio, and you… So, I…" she began, but her words faltered, and they stopped completely as he grasped her shoulders.

"Catherine, you did more than could ever be asked and paid a far higher price that you did not _have _to. You didn't have to do this—any of this. Yet, you did," he interjected and paused for a moment before looking at her firmly. "You remember how you owe me one request? From when I beat Rosa's climbing challenge?"

She frowned, puzzled, "Um… yes…?"

"Then I'm using it now. I want you to tell me the truth—now and always. No more lying; no more avoiding; no more secrets. I promise to do the same. I want us both to be honest with each other. So, I ask again: why did you risk your life like that? Even I am not worth you sacrificing yourself for. So why?"

Catherine didn't answer right away. She couldn't. His words just got to her; made her weak; made every wall she ever made break and crumble under her bubbling emotions. Oh, she knew part of her reason had been to help the others, but she knew, deep down, she had done it just for him—to protect _him_. She wanted to keep him safe above all else, and it was because, despite anything she had seen or heard or knew, she loved him. Even after seeing him there at the brothel she loved him, and while she probably could have thought up something else to tell him, his demand made it too hard. She had set herself too strong in her need to tell him, and it was a losing fight against her fears and the part of her telling her not to. So it all came forth, in the form of tears and a choked sob.

"You want to know why? It's because I love you, you stupid idiot!" she rasped, fingers in a death lock around the sheet as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Even after _everything_—all the women, and the flirting, and seeing you smiling and flaunting yourself around those whores the night of the attack right after I nearly let you kiss me—I _still_ love you and I have for so long, but God dammit, Ezio, I can't keep doing this! I can't keep hoping you feel the same! I can't keep hoping I'm not just going to be another one of your fucking conquests, and I just—it—!"

Her words were stopped not by another sob, but rather a crash of lips against hers. Two hands held her face close, although she wouldn't have been able to pull away just from the shock. She couldn't even return the affection because of it, and only stared stupidly with wide eyes as he pulled back, an elated grin on his unkempt mug.

"You foolish woman. All that—the flirting and flaunting and teasing… _all_ of it was to make you finally say those damned words! I have waited so long to hear them!" Ezio laughed, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Catherine stared for a moment, dumbfounded, "I—wait—wha—_what_?"

"I went to the brothel that night to get that scent you like—the lavender one. I wanted to encourage you to take that leap of faith. I thought you would have by now, but you've been so stubborn! Do you even know what you do to me? Do you know you've made me incapable of looking at any other woman the same because of you? None hold a spark to your flame, and I am but a moth inescapable drawn to it."

"Ezio, you… you…"

"Yes, my dear kitty-'Cat. I love you," Ezio grinned, and then kissed her once more. It was gentler this time, but the passion was infinitely greater. She could feel it, and as the reality dawned upon her, she kissed him right on back. Her hands left the sheets to grasp his shirt, and when his own hands moved to her waist to wrap around them, she brought her fingers to his shoulders. They ventured to his hair next, running through it as they kissed again and again. The fire that had been sparked in their play in the water was rekindled ten-fold, and she grew hungry for more. She wanted him—badly. She knew he wanted her, too, and not like the others. No. He _loved _her. He loved her. God, she'd waited so long to hear it, and now she had and knew it was true and there was no greater joy she had ever felt than before.

She honestly couldn't contain it, and suddenly let out a sob that turned into a gasp for air she hadn't realized she'd needed. She needed one or two more after that, too, and panted lightly as Ezio held her close. She felt the same need in him; in the way he held her, but he hesitated; watching her; worried. She chuckled, planting a quick one on his lips, and then kept her forehead pressed to his.

"Sorry, I just… I've waited probably a lot longer to hear you say the same… and kissing is more exhausting than I realized," Catherine snickered, and then laughed lightly when he suddenly loosened his arms.

"Shit, I was so happy, too, that I forgot—are you alright? I didn't hold you too roughly did I?" he inquired, rubbing her sides gently.

She flushed a little, a stupid smile on her face as she shook her head, "No, no I'm fine. I'm really happy, too—which is why I'm crying by the way, so don't worry. Or, well, I _am_ tired still, but that's because I was out for so long. I already feel better, though."

"I admit… I had hoped to ravage you the moment you confessed," Ezio mused with a playful smirk that made her heart race and cheeks warm all the more. "But I suppose I can contain myself until you are better."

"You're terrible," she smirked, but then raised a brow as he began to shift. He kept his warm around her while he moved, lounging on the bed beside her. He lightly tugged her down then, settling her on top of his chest. He made sure her head was nestled beneath his—no doubt to make it perfect for nuzzling her. Catherine smiled, draping an arm on his chest. "Okay, maybe not so terrible."

"Oh, no, I am the worst, and I will show you yet," he growled playfully as he suddenly tipped her chin and stole a quick peck. "You are to be mine now, and I will not let you regret nor forget it. No other will have you … but by God, woman—did you have to make me wait so long?"

"_Me?_" the redhead balked, pressing up suddenly. She winced at the sudden motion, but Ezio was there at once. He helped ease her down and this time turned so they faced one another. He rubbed along her side gently—something she found she quite liked.

"Yes, you. You've been so damn stubborn! I've been trying everything to make you confess! I thought the time we kissed in the river would do it, but then you pulled away again! You made it unbearable!" he laughed.

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. _You_ were far worse! Do you know how long I've been in love with you? _Years_! Hell, I _started_ having feelings the moment we met!"

"_What_?!" the young man exclaimed and this time he was the one to sit up. "Why did you not say anything?! I had _hoped_ you'd fancied me back then, but I thought you didn't! You can't seriously mean you had feelings for me that you kept hidden for _five years_!?"

"Hey, that was mostly your fault, you know," she huffed, pouting into the pillow. Ezio settled back down, though propped his arm on the bedding, brow quirked. She sighed softly, looking down for a moment, and then back to him. "I mean… well, I wasn't sure I would ever see you again when I left to _Monteriggioni_, so I didn't say anything then… and after you came… well, I knew you still had feelings for Cristina. You weren't ready to move on from that, and then you were always flirting with the city women. I know you slept with a few. I thought maybe after you had let Cristina go when we went back to _Firenze_ you might maybe come to like me, too… but… well, you never showed any signs. You kept fooling around with courtesans or other women… and then that one fight we had where you said no man would ever want me—I know, I know… you didn't mean it, but… it stuck with me for the longest time.I told myself you only really saw me as a friend or sister or you just wanted to sleep with me, and when I compared myself to all the women you did show interest in… well, I saw how different I was so I thought maybe that was why you didn't have any feelings for me.

She paused to look down again, pulling her legs up slightly, "And then… well, I was always afraid of being rejected by you. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it like I did before… so I was always scared. I only actually just got the courage the night of the attack to finally tell you, but then… well, y'know. I got put into this bed."

"Five years," the young man hummed, and shook his head with a laugh. He soon had his arms wrapped back around her, pulling her close once more. He tilted her chin up to give her a long, deep kiss, which she relished in. She loved the way in which his arms embraced her so perfectly, too; how she seemed to fit right against his side as if she belonged there. She did, though, she realized. She was his, and now—now he was hers.

Ezio parted their lips, smiling down lovingly at her, "I suppose I did make it difficult… and I admit I did hold feelings for Cristina for some time, but over the years I've come to realize I loved her more for the memory—of the life I once had and yearned for still. She represented that, but I let it go. And the others… well, I suppose I didn't _love_ you right away. I felt _something_, but I never appreciated it back then. At some point, though, things changed. As I told you, I cannot look at any other woman the same. You feared I did not love you because you weren't like the other women—I love you because you _aren't_ like them. I love you for all that you are, Catherine. You have done what none of them have been able to, and I only wish you had understood my hints better. I dropped so many!"

"Flirting with other girls and sleeping with them is _not_ a hint."

"Well, really that was just to make you jealous. I always loved how it riled you up."

"Yes, well… it worked," Catherine smiled, leaning up to steal another kiss and then settling down. She sighed as she closed her eyes, her vigor from earlier starting to wane. He seemed to sense it, adjusting positions just slightly so as to keep her held close just right. She opened her eyes for a moment, a thought coming to mind. "And um… sorry, I'm… so tired. Honestly, I feel like I'm going to fall asleep again now. I know you wanted to… uh… you know."

Ezio chuckled, "Don't worry, kitty-'Cat… I will gladly show you _all_ you have been missing out on once you are better. You are well worth the wait. For now, rest as long as you need. I will be here, and I will never leave your side or make you doubt again. My heart belongs to you, my love, and I would not have it belong to any other."

Catherine's heart raced all the more and she couldn't help the stupid smile that appeared on her face. She was all too happy to lay her arm across his chest and utilize his warm frame as a pillow. Oh, they had slept in the same bed before, but this—this was so much different. So much better. She had wanted this for years now; to have someone hold her; to have someone love her, and now she had it.

"I'm all yours, Ezio, and I'm never letting you go," she said softly, closing her eyes, and losing herself to the warmth of his body and the gentle, soothing movement of his hand along her hips.

Neither noticed the door to the room shut, a gentle smile on the face of a friend who was glad to see his work come to fruition.

**-O-**

Catherine stirred some time later, and by the candle that was the only source of light—Leonardo must have brought it or something—she knew it was night time. She still felt tired, but not like before. She wasn't nearly as weak, and she was awfully hungry. Thirsty, too, but she would mend that later. For now, she focused on the fact she was enclosed in a familiar pair of arms and nestled up against a firm, warm body. A smile appeared at once, and the lightless and joyous feeling from before came over her. She knew it was love and knowing she was loved in return, and it was something she'd wanted for so long now. Before she had only known the emptiness of rejection, but now her affections were returned and allowed to swell.

The redhead's smile remained as her eyes flicked up to the rugged face of the man she loved. His bangs had grown a little too long, and fell over his face. His beard had grown much darker since the night of the attack, and he looked in need of a shave. Yet, she liked it, too; it made him look more mature and gruff. It made her mind imagine all sorts of things, too—like how it would feel against her skin, and she didn't mean her cheeks. Oh, she could think of all kinds of things he could and would do to her now, and she would gladly give in. Already, she succumbed to one desire; drifting her fingertips along his shirt. It was rather loose—enough so his chest was fairly exposed. As such she took advantage, letting her hand roam across the hard, tanned flesh. He was a little hairy, but not overly so. No, it was just right, and she took great pleasure in admiring him; feeling what was hers now.

She hesitated when the muscles underneath moved—flexed. Her eyes shot upwards, and she found Ezio's were open now, watching her with the tiniest of smirks. She flushed and stopped her machinations, turning her head into his shoulder to hide some.

He chuckled, "Touch as much as you like, kitty-'Cat. It is yours do so with. Only, tell me if I should remove my shirt entirely to satiate your curiosity."

"You don't have to go _that_ far… although I do like what I see," she grinned cheekily, earning a laugh and a kiss.

"Then allow me to give you a taste of what I have planned for you," he rumbled huskily, lips moving from hers, only to place light pecks along her jawline. Each was electrifying, and the moment his affections reached her neck, shivers shot down her spine. She gasped instinctively, and she felt him grin against her skin. "Oh, yes… I will enjoy ravaging you."

He nipped her, earning another gasp and a clutch of his shirt in her hands. He placed more kisses along her neck, more firmly now, and drew his fingertips along her side slowly—sensually; torturously. She made a sound she didn't know she could, and the throbbing she'd just barely come to know thrust itself upon her full-force. God, the things he was making her feel and want to do! And all he was doing was making out with her neck. It was practically embarrassing.

Not as embarrassing, however, as how loud her stomach growled just as he shifted his body so he was angled more on top. He paused, allowing time for her stomach to sing the song of its people. He raised a brow as he sat up, and she had to shove her face into her hands with a pitiful groan.

"I'm ah… hungry," she coughed sheepishly, looking anywhere but at him. The young man laughed—loudly—and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping off. She sat up, watching him take up another candle and use the one on her night stand to light it.

"I'll see about getting something to help with that," he told her before walking out the door. Catherine watched him go, her embarrassment turning into an almost giddy smile. She even buried her face into the pillow, giggling stupidly to herself. It paused as, briefly, she wondered if this was all a dream, but then she told herself it wasn't. This was very much so reality, and at long last the thing she had wanted more than anything was in her grasp. Ezio loved her—_truly_ loved her. He wasn't lying; she could sense it—see it in his face. It made her heart soar.

Sighing with content, the redhead pulled herself up, noting she definitely wasn't as weak as she'd been earlier. Her strength was coming back more quickly now that she was conscious, and she hoped it would increase even more once she got some real food and drink into her. There was the aftermath of what transpired that night to deal with, after all, and she couldn't very well be of much use if she couldn't use a weapon let alone sit up easily in bed. However, she'd been badly hurt apparently, so it would take time. She winced, though, noting _why_ she'd come into this state. It seemed at long last there was a price to pay for her use of the artefact besides guilt, and she hated admitting she'd had a sinking feeling about said price for a while.

Catherine reached for her pocket, expecting to find the device, but realized these weren't her normal pants. In fact, they were undergarment ones—she hadn't even realized she was only in underwear—and had no pocket. As such, she had no Clock. Panic followed suit, and was only barely contained by the memory that the device would return to her—that it was programmed to. How else was she supposed to do what she was brought to do? Unless she had finished the task that night? But then she wouldn't still be here, would she? God, there were so many questions again!

"Here we are… Leonardo kept this warm on the stove for us both. Some stew, and then I got milk for you instead of wine," Ezio spoke up as he pushed the door open, a tray of food in his hands. He set himself down across from her, placing the tray on the bed. He handed her the jug of milk, at which point he must have noticed her concern, because he pulled it back and looked at her with his own concern. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"I… um… no… my, ah… Clock. It's gone. I must have…" the redhead replied, eyes dropping. They lifted, though, when Ezio ruffled through a pocket and pulled out the very item. She gasped and took it with a sigh of relief. "Thank-you. I was about to have a freaking panic attack…"

"I knew you would be worried about losing it, so I was able to take it while the doctor and Fontina took care of you… It was strange, though—they mentioned they tried to before, but apparently couldn't. They said it was too hot, and you held it too tight despite being unconscious, but I was able to take it with ease," he mused, and the panic returned. She set the item down into her lap before taking the stew, hoping to hide behind it and that he would drop it with the shrug she gave in response. However, when she looked up at him, she saw he was staring at her, as if trying to figure it out, yet perhaps hoping she would say so. She didn't dare tell him, though—not about what it could do and what it did to her. However, she knew he would press. He always did, and now that she knew he did love her, she would expect nothing less. Still, she wish he wouldn't.

She braced for the question as he exhaled slowly.

"Catherine… that night… there were… very… _strange_ things happening. People say they saw a phantom—a visage of a woman appearing and disappearing. At least fifteen guards were killed; all with their throats cuts, all in a very similar way. And then when Leonardo found you… he said you seemed to appear out of nowhere and just collapse. You had no wounds, but you bled still… and then their words about your Clock," he began, watching her closely. Slowly, he reached out to tough her hand, looking at her with such love and concern that guilt swashed over her. "Catherine, you told me the Clock brought you here—that it brought you back through time… but… that's not _all_ it can do is it?"

"Ezio…" the redhead sighed, head dropping. It was lifted when the young man took hold of her chin with his fingers gently.

"Remember what we promised? No more lies. I want to know if this thing is hurting the woman I love."

Again, her body sagged, and she closed her eyes to compose herself. She pulled her chin free a moment later and took the Clock into her hands. She stared down at it for a while, rubbing at the surface. For a moment, she wondered if the hand had always been where it was on the three—she could have sworn it was always on the twelve mark—but shook the thought away as she looked back up at the young man.

"Okay… you're right. The Clock didn't _just_ bring me back through time… it can _control_ it. Sort of," she began, and sighed when Ezio's brows scrunched with confusion. "I'm… it's hard to explain, but… it… it's like it takes me to another… place. One where all of you don't move and you're made of lights. It's crazy and amazing and I don't understand it, but, you're all made of these strands of lights that detail you."

"Like my Vision—only, they move."

"I—wait, you can see the lights?"

"Only when I concentrate a little, and things don't stop moving—it's how I find people in the crowd or figure out who is an enemy or ally. But this Clock… it takes you to that place?"

"I—uh, yes… I'm taken there, but I'm not made of lights. Just everyone else. And I can manipulate them. I… well, the easiest is by cutting. When I do that it cuts the real thing, like… um… well, do you… do you remember your battle with Vieri?" she asked, and he nodded with a frown. "Remember when his hand was suddenly cut clean? That… that, um, was me. The Clock activated and brought me to that place for the first time, and I cut his arm to save you. I didn't know it could do that then, but after that… well, the Clock would activate when I needed it—generally if I or you were about to die, and it let me manipulate the lights. Like the attack a few nights ago. All those men? I… I used the Clock to stop them. Cutting the neck is the easiest, which is why I did it…

She paused to lower her head, pressing her palm to it, "I'm… I'm not proud of it. Actually, I _hate_ using it, but… I had to. To protect you. To protect everyone."

"And it did this to you—put you in this state? Nearly killed you?" the young man pressed, grasping her shoulder a little roughly, but she knew it was only because he was concerned.

"I… I wasn't sure—until now. I had suspicions, but… well, I know it could stop me from doing things. It kept me from saving Lorenzo's brother, and from killing Rodrigo, and then I thought the headaches and nosebleeds were just from being hit or exhaustion, but… well, after all this… I… I think it's taking a toll."

"Then you can't use it anymore," Ezio growled.

Catherine looked up at him, "I have to—I'm supposed to protect you."

"Why? Because some 'god' told you to!?"

"No! Not anymore, anyways. Originally, yes, to go home, but I love you, Ezio, and I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"Not this, though!" he exclaimed, taking her head in his hands. Her heart ached to see the agony in his eyes. "Never this… I could not bear to watch you like that again—I can't bear even the thought of you coming to such harm because of me! Catherine, you can't keep using it. You can't."

"It's not always up to me—it will activate on its own something. If you're about to die or I am… And sometimes it's just for a moment; a split second, which doesn't do anything. Times like with the attack are rare and last resorts."

"Then we have to find a way to control it better."

She smiled weakly, "I have been. Mario and I have been secretly training with it. I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but I was scared of this power. I was scared of what it could do, and what _you _would think of me having it… I couldn't bring myself to tell you or anyone else, but Mario already knew about me and what it was, so he helped me. I'm sorry for lying about it all this time… but I've gotten to where I can activate it when I want, but… some of it is still beyond my control."

"Then we'll find a way. We'll work smarter and better so neither of us will be in those moments. I won't let it bring you more harm. I won't nearly lose you a third time," Ezio growled with determination, pressing his forehead to hers. God, she wanted to believe he could, but deep down she knew it was probably a lost cause. Forces beyond their understanding were at work. Still, she set the Clock down to reach up and touch his hand cupping her face.

"Okay. We'll find a way. I hate having it, anyways. I honestly do. No one should have this power… and I abused it with those guards. I killed all those men so… so easily."

"You did what you had to protect us, even if it was damned foolish and I won't let you do it again. You saved us, though—all of us. All the thieves are safe because of you, so know some good did come of it," Ezio smiled warmly, kissing her brow. She smiled back, but she didn't feel all that much better. Oh, she felt relief their allies were safe, but it was overrun by so much else. How could she tell him she couldn't think of a way? That she had no hope for another way? That she knew she would have to use it again?

"So everyone really is alright?"

"Yes, everyone… but let's wait to talk of more later. You need to eat and gather your strength. Just promise me you will do all you can to not use the Clock?" he asked gently, rubbing her cheek.

She met his gaze for a few, long moments before nodded, "Okay. I'll do what I can."

"Thank-you, my love," he sighed, and kissed her deeply.

She returned it in earnest, and then at long last she was able to finally down some of the delicious food. Already it strengthened her, and she relished in the warmth and fullness it gave her. The milk was equally good, but in the end she still yawned once she finished her food and sighed with content. Ezio was all too happy to set their bowls and tray aside, so as to bring her into his arms again. She hummed with delight as he draped her on his chest, arms clasped on her lower back. She could hear his heartbeat, which served as a soothing rhythm while she nuzzled under his chin.

"God, I wish I hadn't waited so long now—this is way too nice," she chuckled before yawning again.

Ezio chuckled back, rubbing her back gently, and placed a kiss on her brow, "Indeed it is. And this is only the beginning."

"You want to 'ravage' me, right?" the redhead snickered as she lifted her head, leaning up slightly.

He smirked, "Oh, indeed… and so much more. You _do_ know what that entails, right?"

"Of course I do," she huffed, flushing as she pouted and glanced away briefly. "You mean sex."

"Oh, ho. And here I thought virgins were so innocent."

"Just because I've never had sex doesn't mean I didn't want it."

A brow raised, "Oh?"

She flushed harder, "I—er… I may have… thought about it… a lot. Lately. About you, uh… and I… having sex."

"And just what did you think about exactly?" he grinned, brow waggling now. She mumbled her reply at first, making him laugh. Playfully, he reached down and squeezed her rump. She squeaked lightly in surprise and pouted at him. He laughed again, "Come now, you don't need to be shy around me, anymore. I'm more than happy to fulfill your every desire… when you're well, of course. Although, by God I will be so tempted after I know exactly what you want me to do to you."

She huffed, "Well, if you _must_ know… a lot of things… like… well… I, uh… I've always wanted you to, um… hold me… up. While you… y'know."

"My God—you want to be so wild right away? How am I going to resist you?" Ezio smirked, squeezing her rump again as he gave her a quick kiss. His hands returned to her back, rubbing once more.

"Once I'm better you won't have to," she mused, and then pouted when the young man looked back at her with amusement. "What? I told you I've thought about it. And, I mean, I'm like twenty-four and you're the first guy I've kissed. I'm ready to, y'know, take the next step now that I know you feel the same. I trust you, too, which helps. I know you'll do it right by me, and… well, I want to do right by you, too, so knowing you feel the same… Or, at least, I'm hoping you'll be patient with me as I learn things…"

"Good God, kitty-Cat, stoop. You're going to be the end of me and destroy my patience," Ezio mock-groaned, head falling back in suit.

"What? Why? Wait… is… do you have a boner right now?" the redhead balked, glancing down as she felt something press against her that hadn't been there before.

"Now do you understand what you do to me? How hard it's been enduring your stubbornness?"

"Then you shouldn't have made it so difficult and just kissed me or something!"

"I had to be sure! Otherwise you'd hit me, and I… I didn't want to ruin what we had, either. I didn't want things to change for the worse if you didn't feel the same," Ezio frowned, tugging her a bit closer. Catherine stared for a moment before smiling gently and leaning forward to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned it, adding a touch of passion to it.

"Well, now you know… and I'll take that new bump down there as a compliment. At some point we'll have to do something about it," she chuckled with a wink.

Ezio's eyes widened slightly and laughed, "It seems I have underestimated the tigress within you. I'll have to tread carefully."

"Don't worry—you'll have the advantage for a while. I'm already getting tired again," she snickered back before lying down atop him.

"Then rest. I've got you. We'll wait for as long as you need, my love," the young man rumbled as he drew the sheets over them both and then rest his arms on her lower back. "Just… please don't make me wait too long?"

"You know that's just going to make me make you wait longer, right?" she grinned.

"Dammit."

"Oh, please, did you really think I would be so easy after confessing?"

"…I… might have hoped…?"

"I'm going to _ruin _you."

"Brave words, kitty-'Cat. Brave words. You will regret them."

Catherine laughed, "I hope I do."

And as she closed her eyes, content to sleep in the arms of the man she loved, she knew there were great things to come. Indeed, she would regret her words, but truthfully? She was looking forward to it.

* * *

_I set out on a narrow way many years ago  
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road  
But I got lost a time or two  
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through_

_I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you  
That every long lost dream lead me to where you are  
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars  
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms_

* * *

**50 **_**– **__End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And there's your confession, guys ;) How long have we waited now?_

_A long damn time._

_It was worth it, though, and this is just the FIRST chapter. I've got three full of romance and fluff to make up for all that time xD Anyways, to answer some questions: Ezio was NOT at the brothel to visit the women. He went to get an incense for Catherine-to set the mood, ha ha. She just saw him at the wrong time. All his flirting and teasing with other women (such as as about Caterina)? All to make 'Cat jealous and make her confess faster. Yes, Ezio loves Catherine. He really, really does. And he's not letting her go ;)_

_Anyways, I think I've said enough. Hopefully this will keep you animals satiated until my next update. Again, it's going to take a while, but you'll get more romance soon enough ;)_


	53. Bless the Broken Road II

**TMWolf: **_Weeeeeeeeeeeeell, I have been gone a while haven't I? Like I said, I went on vacation, and good grief it was needed. I also have some great news (for me): I am officially enrolled into graduate school and I will be working towards a Master degree (in Geology)! What the means is I am a smart patootie-just kidding. Or, well, it does mean I got enough brains to finish at least college, but mostly it means I am going back to school! What that means update-wise, though... I'm not sure. The work load is apparently a *LOT* more difficult, so we'll see how it goes. I aim to continue updating every other week, but if things change up I'll be sure to let ya'll know in the next update. But, yeah-onto continuing my education! xD_

_As usual, how I write the canon and all its contents is based upon my interpretation of the canon material_

_Man, it's a good thing I updated before I left, 'cause you guys obviously needed that confession xD Well, guess what: more fluff to come! Before that, I'll answer some guest reviews. Also: you guys are just always so good to me. CHRONOS HAS NOW HIT OVER 400 REVIEWS! XD I'm so excited! Hmm... you know what? If we get to 500 I maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay do a special one shot like I did for TPWT. Cue romance/humor/etc. that's super long... so if you want that... well, don't be afraid to leave a comment/critique/question/etc. ;)_

**_ACEzio-Fan:_**_ Oh my goodness-you binged this!? xD Good lord! Hope you remembered to eat, ha ha. Thank-you sooooooooooooo much for your review! I'm so glad you love it-and the pairing! xD Hope you enjoy the fluff-full chapter haha_

**_Blapzapp:_**_ True, everyone can use it... but some have it stronger than others-and that has to do with their DNA. Their blood. Also, Giovanni doesn't know that. He believes it's based upon your blood-your lineage, which isn't entirely wrong, either. But I've played all the games and do know the canon... so don't worry; I'm aware of that little tid bit xD_

**_Guest (1):_**_ Don't worry I am updating (as you can see haha)! I was just busy is all and enjoying a fun vacation :) I'm back, though! And as for your question... I'm afraid I can't answer that one soooorrry! Just gunna have to wait and see what happen!_

**_Guest (2):_**_ You'll see very soon! :)_

**_Guest (3):_**_ I based it off Claudia's height and apparently body structure, and assumed they weren't far off. The game *DOES* show everyone older than they should really look in my opinion... but just assume they fit-but not perfectly. Something like that. /cue poor excuse_

**Guest (4): **_Hehe it only took them 51 chapters LOL Those dorks, huh? And that's a great hypothesis! Keep thinking and holding onto it, and answers will come at the end-promise! xD And oh that's so cool you're from Dubai! It's always crazy to see what countries I get readers from!_

**Guest (5): **_Thank-you soooooooooo much! I'm so glad you're loving it and the pairing! xD I hope you will continue to do so!_

**Guest (6)_: _**_Haha, right? And thanks! I'm so glad you love it! xD_

**_Kise-cchi:_**_ *waggles brow* Uff, I love all the hypothesis my reviewers create. It's so much fun making ya'll think and try to guess what I'm doing! Are you right? Maybe. Are you wrong? Also maybe. It wouldn't be any fun to tell you the answer just yet :p And yes, squeal, my loyal reader. SQUEAL. You have your romance, finally xD And oh yeah, 'Cat's actually pretty dirty, but she's held back because she wasn't sure about things with Ezio. Now that's she confident about how things are, you can expect more innuendos lolololo. Anyways, enjoy the feels ocean trip-I intend to send people there for two more chapters xD_

**_Rebel:_**_ I know, right!? It only took them forever! (*cough*51chapters*cough*). Haha, welll... Ezio is also waiting-he's being a proper gentleman... but you'll see xD_

_...Man ya'll need to make accounts so I can reply directly LOL xD Anyways, same song as last time by Rascall Flatts :)_

_And that's it for now so enjoy more Catzio fluff! :'D_

* * *

**52 – **_Bless the Broken Road II_

* * *

_This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you  
Yes it did_

_I think about the years I spent just passing through  
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you  
But you just smile and take my hand  
You've been there you understand  
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true_

* * *

**March 21, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

"Shit!"

Catherine's eyes shot open at the curse, which had made an attempts\ to be quiet, but the one who uttered it jerked beneath her. It was dark, but she could just barely make out Ezio sucking on his index finger, his expression reflecting pain. Her gaze flicked to the night stand, where she expected he might have put out a candle—it was dark after all—but she couldn't even make out the lingering glow of the flame. She did, however, notice a familiar object beside the candle.

Her clock.

Her heart raced a little and she instinctively clutched at the young man's shirt. She had an idea what he had tried to do, and, knowing the one reason why the artifact would burn him, she had a feeling she was right.

"Oh—did I wake you?" the young man inquired softly, arm wrapped around her waist tugging her a bit closer. "Sorry, kitty-'Cat. Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

Catherine made a hum of acknowledge and settled her head on his chest, but sleep she did not come. No, guilt had invaded her heart and mind, and it consumed her. She knew why Ezio had tried to take the Clock; he meant to keep it from her—to keep her safe, but he couldn't. It wouldn't let him. She could feel his grip tighten a bit more, and an exasperated breath of air left him. He was frustrated. She knew him too well to not know when he was. The redhead sighed as she closed her eyes, hating she was causing him this pain.

"I'm sorry."

"What? For what?"

"You can't keep the Clock from me… it… it has a special… mechanism. It will always find its way back to me, no matter what anyone does," she explained, again clenching her hands. "I'm sorry—I... I know it's hard for you, and I don't… I don't mean to… but… please don't be angry…"

"No, no, no, I'm not angry," Ezio replied quickly, kissing her brow gently and using his other hand to cup her cheek. "It's not your fault. I just… to know I can't protect the one I love… there is nothing more infuriating…"

"I know… but… but we _will_ find a way to keep it from hurting me again," she told him, leaning into his touch.

"Indeed… and I suppose the artifact is not all bad—it did bring you to me," he chuckled.

She chuckled back, "That it did… and thank God for that. Although… I do wish you could have met my Mom and family, too. I think you would have found my time fun, although confusing for a while."

"I would have loved to meet them as well, and it wouldn't be fun without a little confusion."

"God, I'd love to see you freak out over cars and planes and trying to figure out phones and TV's," the redhead snickered, turning to lay her arm on his chest and settle her head on her limbs.

"I have _no _idea what you mean by any of those things," he grinned in reply, reaching up to stroke her hair. "But I would be happy to learn them—all that really matters is that we're together."

"Since when are you such a romantic?"

"I've always been a romantic—you just refused to believe it. I'm also an amazing _lover_," he purred, suddenly reaching down and pulling her further up. He ran his hands along her back until he could grope her rear. Catherine giggled as she braced her arms on either side of his head, forehead pressed to his.

"Still as cheeky as ever. Although, I admit," she hummed, gazed falling a bit shyly, "I, ah… I'm a little… nervous."

"Nervous? About making love? You mean to tell me, you'd charge head on into a group of guards and be willing to sacrifice your life… but you're nervous about the pleasure a man can bring a woman?" he mused, brow waggling.

She huffed, pouting some, "I _know_ how to fight… I… well, again, you're the first guy I've kissed. I don't… I'm just scared I'll… disappoint."

"Catherine, you worry too much. You needn't—I have _much_ I can teach you, and I am more than eager to do so. There's always something so enticing about a woman who is pure and untouched. Oh, yes, I will take great pleasure in ravaging you," he growled huskily as he leaned forward to mouth at her neck slightly. Excited shocks went through her at once, and she gasped in anticipation. He stopped there, though, and chuckled before stealing a quick kiss. "See? You're more eager than you think."

"Such a tease… damn I wish I had more energy already," the redhead huffed, practically flopping down on him. She hated admitted holding herself up like that was somewhat exhausting, but it wasn't entirely unexpected.

"As do I… but I waited years to kiss you—I can wait a few days more to finally taste you," he purred, squeezing her rump lightly so as to get a small squeak from her that turned his grin cheeky.

"You're terrible," she snickered.

He kissed her, "You wouldn't have it any other way."

"Hmm… your right. I wouldn't. It is why I love you."

"And that's it?"

"Oh, no, there's more… but I'll tell you later."

"And you call me a tease… but that's only one of the many things I love about you."

"What? Love me just for being a tease?"

"No, no, there's more—'but I'll tell you later'," Ezio winked, and Catherine laughed with delight. She paused a moment later, though, just watching him; smiling; admiring; loving. His hand came up to stroke her hair, the very same look in his eyes. Her chest swelled as she leaned into his touch, adoring every moment of it and everything about him.

So this—this was love.

It was all she had hoped for, and with more yet to come.

She couldn't wait.

"Good night, Ezio," she chuckled, leaning up to kiss him once more before settling her head on his chest.

"Rest easy, my kitty-Cat," he murmured softly in reply, hands coming to rest on her lower back as he, too, settled down.

**-O-**

**March 22, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

"So, how do you feel, my dear?" Fontina inquired, the older woman gently maneuvering the younger as she inspected her mobility. Catherine stood upright—at last—and let the woman do as need be as she hummed thoughtfully.

"Better. A little weak still, but a lot better," she replied after a moment. It was true; while still not back to her full self, she was a thousand times better after another day of rest and eating. She didn't feel as weighed down or sluggish, and she'd been able to walk around the room, although Ezio had remained close—just in case. Even now he remained on the bed, watching carefully, and ready to spring out to steady her if need be while Fontina did her inspection. Any external injuries had healed well, as had her lover's, as she'd come to find when he happily took off his shirt earlier. Internal wounds, she couldn't be sure of, although she hadn't felt anything besides fatigue, nor had she coughed up blood, so she could only assume she had none of those. Hopefully.

"Well, that's good then. You need to get up and about to keep getting better—your body will forget how to move otherwise," the older woman mused, nodding with satisfaction, and then regarded the young woman. "We'll see about having you start walking around outside. Fresh air will do you good. Not far today—just to your limit, but you'll need to go every day until you can at least run some."

"Yeesh, what's the hurry?" the redhead chuckled, but the humor was quickly lost when she noticed the older woman's demeanor suddenly change. She glanced back at Ezio, and there was a similar look—one that told her something had gone on while she was out.

Fontina sighed softly, "Antonio believes it's best you two left the city—just for a little while. A month or two at most. Your saving us caused quite a commotion. The guard are doubling their efforts to find you two—especially _you_, my dear. Thankfully no one got too good a look at you, but all the same, you need to leave to let the commotion die down. Unfortunately, you won't get too far if you can't even make it to the docks."

"I… see… well, I guess we did want a vacation, right?" the redhead chuckled, glancing back at her man, whom grinned in reply. She turned back to her caretaker, "Well, I'm eager to get back into running shape, either way."

"Good. Then let's get you cleaned up and into fresh clothes. Out with you, young man."

Ezio leaned back impishly, "Whatever for?"

"Because she is in need of privacy to change and bathe."

"But I am her lover—is it not only natural I gaze upon and admire her form?"

"'Lover', not husband, boy. Now out!"

"Maybe next time," Catherine chuckled, winking a bit playfully, although her cheeks were a little red at the thought of him looking at her bare naked. That was probably silly because they _were_ lovers, like he said—or would be. Not to mention she trusted him, but she was still nervous about it. She would open up to him soon, though. She wanted to. No doubt he'd just have to kiss her and mouth at her neck and her clothes would practically take themselves off.

Ezio smirked as he came over, stealing a kiss and replying huskily, "I look forward to it."

Her flush deepened, but unlike before she smiled. Her heart raced, but not from embarrassment or even fear, but rather joy. Knowing he wanted her so badly and to know it was from love made all the difference. She practically felt like an entirely new person.

"Well, looks like I'll be winning some coins then," Fontina mused suddenly, pulling the redhead from her stupor. The older woman laughed as she gestured for Catherine to undress. "Oh, yes—Rosa got a runnin' bet going on how long it would take you two foolish children to finally confess to one another. I knew it wouldn't take long."

This time, the redhead's flush _was_ from embarrassment. God, had it been that obvious to _everyone_? She decided not to think on it as she undid her shirt, only briefly wincing at the soreness in stretching her limbs so much. It was still better than not being able to stand at all, so she kept up with it until she had rid herself of her clothes—it was then she realized how icky they had gotten—and happily took the new garbs Fontina provided for her. They were simple attire, though not tattered like most of the thieves wore. It was a common man's shirt and trousers, and then a hat, too. They all fit well enough. A little baggy, but not too badly.

"This should do. The guards aren't looking for a thief as luck would have it. Now, you still need to take it easy, but make sure you go as much as you can out there. I'll be here when you get back to give you another look and feed you a warm meal. About time we filled that belly of yours proper," the older woman smiled, patting Catherine's stomach, and then headed for the door. The redhead settled back on the bed to start putting on her boots while Ezio sauntered back in. He smiled softly, although there looked like relief in his expression, too—no doubt that she had managed to get so far already, and that she would get farther still. _She_ was certainly relieved about that, too.

"I'll change as well and then we can depart," the young man grinned, making his way over to a dresser where another stack of clothes were. Catherine fussed over her boots, making a hum of acknowledgment. She got the first one on before she spoke up.

"Do you have anything particular pla—," she began, looking up at him, but paused as her tongue became rather tied at the sight of Ezio slipping his loose undershirt from his shoulders. It revealed a wonderful display of what she could only call perfectly sculpted back muscles that rippled beneath his tanned skin with the movement. She couldn't help staring, nor blushing when he glanced back, having noticed her pause. She looked away shyly, and immediately wondered why. This was what couples did—saw each other shirtless. Right?

She glanced up again, and found him still watching. She stared longer than she should have, eyes flicking all over his perfect form. She remembered herself a moment later and quickly looked away yet again, cheeks and ears turning a brighter shade of red. They grew fiery hot when she heard him chuckle. It worsened as he came closer, boots scuffing against the floor. Next thing she knew, his pants were in her line of sight, and once she lifted her head, she found his bare chest in front of her. She couldn't help inhaling a little, heart racing. Oh, she'd seen it before—when he teased her—but this was different. This was purposeful. It wasn't a tease—not like before, anyways. This was normal for a couple. This was what she was _supposed_ to see. It wasn't wrong. The notion caused her to be torn between excitement and nervousness.

"You do not need to be shy, kitty-Cat. This is all yours—do as you wish with it," Ezio rumbled, holding out his arms, and not-so-blatantly flexing just about everything. She met his gaze, noting he had a cheeky look about him, but then down to his chest and abdomen. God, she wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of it. She had for a long, long time. She bit her lip in her indecision, but even then her hand lifted—almost on its own. "Don't hesitate; feel as much as you like."

Catherine met his gaze briefly yet again, and then let her hand close the distance. She reminded herself she'd touched it before, albeit with a shirt on, but it was the same. Except, it definitely wasn't, and she knew it even as she kept silently saying otherwise. She enjoyed it, though. He was hard; firm; a little warm. She felt him flex again; felt the muscles shift and tense against her touch. She wanted to feel it all. She wanted to know every inch and fiber, so she let her fingertips roam. They inspected each row of his abs, slowly working up to his pectorals. She hardly noticed how he leaned forward, arms coming to settle on either side of her. His forehead pressed against hers as she moved up and out, massaging his shoulders. The definition never faltered as she moved further still, but then returned to his collar. She ended up at his neck where her fingers tangled with his hair. She tilted her chin, lips close to his.

"To your liking, my love?" he half-purred, half-rumbled.

She swallowed with only a bit of difficulty as she felt her mind getting a little fuzzy, "Uh-huh."

"I would have it no less… and soon enough..," he began, brushing his lips past hers before moving to her chin. His stubble tickled her while his mouth teased her tingling skin on the way down to her collar. He growled softly, hot breath sending a shiver down her spine, "I'll return the favor…"

He gave her a quick, searing kiss before pulling away, brows waggling, and leaving her heart racing a million miles an hour. She pouted moments later, realizing he _had_ been teasing her—_badly._ She threw a half-glare, half-pout at him, which he turned in time to see, and burst out laughing.

"You will not be pouting when I return the favor, kitty-Cat."

"I—," she started, but then paused, thinking. "…Okay, yeah, no I probably won't. You hot, cheeky bastard."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he snickered, and left her be long enough to compose herself while he dressed. Once done, he was polite as could be as he came over and held out his hand and arm for her. She happily took it, and entwined her limb with his, both for the fun of it, and because she did need it some. Her legs weren't quite as strong as she liked, so walking could be tricky at times, but she was, at the very least, able to make it to the main area. There Leonardo and Fontina were waiting, and the artist brightened immensely as he came over to embrace her.

"You look so much better, my friend!" he smiled softly, holding her hands in his. "I would accompany you, but both Fontina and Ezio say it is less, ah, conspicuous if I do not. But rest assured I will do everything I can to help!"

"Leo, you're fine. You got me help and you're letting me stay here. You're honestly doing way too much," Catherine chuckled, although the artist waved off her reply.

"Nonesense! You are my dearest friend! I am only repaying a small part of all the kindness you have shown me!"

Ezio chuckled, "And you have no need to do so—although we do appreciate it. However, if you must continue to help… Catherine will need a full meal when we return… and a change of sheets would be in order. Perhaps some medicine as well…?"

"Fontina and I can certainly see to that. You two have fun now! You have much to time to catch up on, after all," the artist chuckled, an oddly mischievous look about him.

"Indeed we do. Shall we, Catherine?" her "escort" inquired, motioning with his head to the door. She followed his gaze, and in her pause she tightened her hold on his arm some. She was a little afraid—or rather, worried. She wasn't positive her legs could carry her, but she knew Ezio would be there. He'd help her if she fell.

She couldn't help smiling, the thought of such a thing filling her with warmth.

"Yeah, let's go."

The young man spared her a final smile, and then he led her out through the doors. The humid air and bright sun hit her a little rough, but Ezio waited as long as she needed to adjust her eyes and take in a deep breath. A cool breeze came moments later, and they continued on.

She was shakier than she thought she'd be, but instead of getting worse, her legs got better as they continued on. She still kept her grip on her companion, and he went slow as they walked. It was nice, and she let her head rest on his shoulder at some point as they walked. He was all too happy to let her do so, and place gentle kisses on her brow. It was a kind of bliss she had never known, and was eager to hold on to. Even if it was just a small walk through the alleyways to side and back roads to avoid the crowd, it was the best walk she'd ever been on. It was quieter than she expected, but she found that was okay. She relished in the silence between them, and realized words weren't needed. They had already said what they needed—more would eventually come, of course, but for now things were content—so only his presence was needed. The firm, stalwart wall that was his body supporting her when she needed; the occasional tender show of affection; the loving way he entwined their fingers as they went.

It was so much more than she had dreamed, and she hoped it would never end.

Sadly, her legs did not agree, and eventually she did have to rest, but even that did not deter their serenity. No, Ezio was glad to hold her close, letting her recover against him. They spoke a little then; mostly him inquiring how she felt and her replying just that she was a little tired, and how her feet already felt a little sore, but she was fine overall. It was disheartening to know how weak she'd been made, but she suspected it wouldn't take long to be back to full health. Ezio thought and said the same, assuring her she would be fine. For once, she believed him.

"Any better yet?" he inquired after another few moments of silence. Catherine hummed as she looked down at her feet, tapping the tip of her boots together rather lazily.

"Yeah. I can make it back, anyways. I'll probably be pretty sore tomorrow, but that's good—it means I really worked the weak muscles."

"Not to worry," he chuckled, kissing her cheek as he stood up and held his hand out for her. "If need be, I will gladly carry you."

"That's rather tempting, actually… but I need to walk as much as I can," she chuckled back, taking his hand and easing up slowly. Again, she entwined their arms and fingers, and they walked once more. She sighed happily as they went, head on his shoulders again. "Not gonna lie… this… this has been nice. I know we've walked together before, so it's probably weird to think it, but… it's a lot better than those times."

"That's because now we're not second guessing how the other really feels," the young man smirked.

She laughed, "Yeah—that's probably it. It was a pain in the ass trying to figure it out, but I'm glad I didn't give up. I was tempted a lot. I thought things would end up like they always did when I started to feel anything for anyone… but not this time."

"I'm glad as well," he hummed softly, leaning his head against her briefly. After a pause, he called out to her, "If… if you would… What _did_ happen with the others? What did they do to seal your heart so tightly?"

She sighed deeply, "It's not so much what they did… mostly it was my own fault. You remember the boy I mentioned—the one I was in love with?"

His grip tightened a little as he nodded, "I do."

"Well, like I said… I fell in love and I realize now it was stupid to do so. He never liked me beyond as a sister, and even then we eventually drifted apart. It… hurt a lot, though. I felt stupid for falling for him, and then… I tried to have others like me. I tried flirting, but no one ever seemed interested. They either had girlfriends—er, sorry; they already had lovers, or didn't see me that way. It made it hard to think anyone wanted me, and I couldn't help thinking the same whenever you would flirt with the others—even if it was to make me jealous after some point."

Ezio was quiet for a little while, still having them walk slowly along the alleyways. He paused, though, as they came near the exit of one. He untwined their limbs, but only so he could wrap his arms around her waist, looping his fingers to keep her closer. She braced her hands against his chest, looking up at him. He pressed his forehead to hers, a gentle smile on his face.

"Frankly, I'm glad they never took interest. I'm glad no others from here have either—albeit partly my own doing," he smirked slightly, and laughed when she raised a questioning brow. "You honestly think no men were interested in you? Catherine, you forced me to persuade many others to forsake that interest."

"Oh my _God_."

"Now, now—is that such a bad thing now that _I _have you?" he grinned impishly, and she couldn't help but laugh. His grin only widened as he kissed her cheek. "See? I am certainly glad I did. You are mine, and I will not lose you to anyone or anything."

"You mean it? You won't somehow fall out of love with me?" she inquired somewhat seriously, although she smiled as she reached up to settle her hands on his shoulders.

He wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, "Never. I told you—I can't look at other women the same. None match up to you, and I won't let any other man have your heart. You are mine and mine alone, as I am yours and only yours."

"And here I thought you couldn't be romantic," Catherine chuckled softly, running her fingers through his hair.

"I told you—you never believed me," Ezio snickered right back, pressing his forehead to hers again. He brushed his lips against hers as well, making her giggle some.

"Your beard is getting rough."

He perked a brow, "Shall I remove it?"

"Hmm," she paused, brushing her cheek against it a bit more before she grinned. "Nope. I love it."

She kissed him deeply then, and he was all too happy to return the affection. He was even happier to give plenty more as he stepped forward some, pushing Catherine into the near wall. He was careful, of course, but still could not resist pressing himself against her as he made each lip lock deeper. She gave in, of course, putty in his embrace, and he took advantage of her compliance. His mouth ventured, and she sounded off with agreement, making soft sounds of pleasure as he teased her neck like before. Her body arched against his, fingers tightening around his hair, and her skin tingled wherever he let his tongue touch. Her virgin flesh was eager for his skilled touch, but again it was denied as he pulled back—grinning like the Devil himself.

"You make it so hard to resist taking you right here and now," he rumbled, and she was half-tempted to tell him to just do it. He kissed her gently on the mouth this time. "But that would be rather indecent, wouldn't it?"

"I—er… well, yes, it would," she chuckled as he pulled back, but kept close while he held up his arm for her to take. She did so, and they began to walk again. "It'd be a little uncomfortable, too. A brick wall isn't exactly where I imagined having sex for the first time."

"Then where would you like it?"

She flushed a little, "Um, well… y'know… the bed…?"

He laughed, "No need to be so timid about it. We'll make it so. Frankly, I prefer the bed, too—much more comfortable and so many different ways to make use of it!"

"I did…," Catherine began, mumbling as her cheeks reddened a bit more.

"Hmm? What are you mumbling?"

"I, uh… wanted… to… try… stuff… too."

"Oh? Like what? I will be happy to oblige."

"Y'know… all… of them?" she practically squeaked, eyes flicking from the street to him. The young man paused a moment, and then laughed once again—loudly this time. Her flush grew worse, and a fierce pout came over her face. She pulled her arm from his and folded it over her chest in a huff, which only made him laugh more. He stole a kiss despite her sour look, and cupped her chin in his hands.

"I know I keep saying it, but you really are going to ruin me."

"Pssh, says the one who won't be unable to walk the next morning."

"Who said anything about leaving the bed?"

"I have to _eventually_ leave."

"Then fear not—I will carry you."

"So you can parade me around and show off what you did?" she mused, brow raised.

He smirked, "Oh, no need for that. They'll all know I ravaged you by then."

She opened her mouth to question it, but realization came quickly, and again her cheeks grew hot and red. Her pout returned, and Ezio laughed some more while he stole a second kiss.

"Know I tease only because I love you," he smiled and held out his arm for her. She gave him an ultimately harmless, playful glare, but it faded away. In its place was her own smile as she entwined their limbs and slipped her fingers between his just as they had before.

"I love you, too."

He gestured to the path ahead, "Let's get you back then, and get you something to eat."

"Sounds good to me. Lead the way," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder, and lead away he did.

**-O-**

**March 24, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

Catherine sighed with relief as she flopped onto the bed, her body a little tired, but not nearly as bad as it had been a few days ago. Two days of eating full meals, drinking plenty of fluid, and daily exercise had done wonders to her endurance and strength, and she practically felt back to normal. She wasn't fully there, though, and she was tempted to say she was ready to fall asleep right where she was. She wasn't quite there yet, however, and so she stretched lazily, slipping a foot up to kick off one boot, and then manage to shuck off the other. Not far from her, Ezio took up sitting in a chair as he did much the same.

She looked over at him, and smiled. It had been a good day today. Not only had she been able to walk hours on end without needing his aid, she had gotten to race him a little—climbed a wall even. It was harder than she'd like, and she had to sit and rest for a good while before they could make it back to Leonardo's, but it was a vast improvement. She dared to say she would be back to normal in another day or two, which was a relief. She could tell her lover was getting a bit restless staying here, even if it was to help her, but it was for a reason—the aching desire each held for one another. Oh, it was all too obvious what he wanted, and she wanted it just as badly, but he was being careful—gentle. He didn't want to push her too hard and tire her out or even accidentally hurt her, but she knew he was pushing himself to the limit for waiting.

She sometimes wished he would just ignore it.

She knew better, though, and thanked him silently for it. Besides, it gave them more time to do more-so "couple" thing—like the "dates" they'd been going on. Their little walks around the city. She would be lying if she said she didn't love them and each day her heart swelled with joy when they would hold hands or he would wrap his arm around her as they walked. He would even buy her little trinkets—such as the flower in her hair. She smiled at the memory as she sat up and reached for it; gently touching at the white petal. She'd never felt such happiness before, and she hoped it would always be like this—even after they took the next time.

"How do you feel?" Ezio inquired, pulling her from her thoughts.

She looked to him, grinning, "Not bad, actually. I think I'm mostly healed up."

"That's good," he grinned back. "You should be fine for the trip tomorrow then."

"Yeah; and since we'll be on the boat, I'll have more time to recover," she nodded, glancing over to the letter on the nightstand. Fontina had delivered it this morning; a note from Antonio how he'd arranged travel for them out of the city and back home. It was for their own safety, but the only boat available was tomorrow or again in a week, to be decided based on how she felt. With her good to go, they decided to leave tomorrow afternoon. She was honestly happy to hear it—she missed home, and she knew it would do them both good. Not only that, they could finally go see Claudia. They hadn't yet received news of a baby, but it was certain the babe had been born by then. Not to mention they had to share their own good news about finally becoming a couple. Ottavio had a bet to win, after all.

"We should sleep soon then—so you're rested. Shall I leave…?" he inquired, motioning to the door; ever trying to be polite. The last few times Fontina had been here, so he _had_ to get out or face her wrath. Catherine's first instinct was to say yes, but she stopped before she spoke. She bit her lip briefly, considering for a moment, but then shook her head.

"No, you can stay. Just don't look," she chuckled with a wink as she stood up and moved to the dresser where her night shirt and trousers were. She glanced over as she undid the buttons of her vest and noted he _was_ looking, but turned away with a snicker. She smiled in kind, and continued on, although the thought of him watching anyways lingered. To her surprise, she found she actually _wanted_ him to stare. The more she pondered on it, the more she realized she'd wanted that for a while, and that it was alright for him to look now—they were a couple after all. Why shouldn't he stare? Why should she be embarrassed? She was his and he was hers, and she'd seen him mostly naked plenty of times. There was nothing wrong.

The notions sparked an idea—one that made her heart race. It made her cheeks flush, and she paused in undressing. She had removed her vest by now, and only her undershirt remained, partially undone. She looked to the mirror; looked to herself. Her mind conjured all sorts of images, and she couldn't help staring at Ezio's reflection in it, too; his back turned to her. She clutched at the fabric, conflicted for a moment, but unable to deny a yearning growing in her. Her abdomen throbbed and tightened with a want she had kept unsatisfied for so long. Perhaps now was finally time to give it _some_ satisfaction.

Catherine exhaled, and didn't realize she'd even been holding her breath. Her resolve didn't waver, though, and she turned to look at the young man. His hair had been loosened after the day's activities, and she could see his shirt was loose, too—half-way undone already no doubt. She swallowed, still a little uncertain, but she moved her legs anyways. She came to stand before him, and there was some satisfaction in seeing his surprise. His eyes flicked downward, taking her in, and then he met her gaze. He said nothing; didn't move. She realized he was letting her decide—letting her choose what to do. Or was he just as curious as to what she was doing? She didn't know if she could answer if he asked, but she moved again, settling herself onto his lap; one hand on his chest; the other on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his thickening beard. He remained quiet, watching her intently as she did the same. This time she knew for sure he was letting her decide, and her heart raced a little quicker. She twittered between running away and moving forward, so unsure and uncertain and new to everything, yet eager and willing and wanting. In the end, she brought her hands down to his and pulled them to her sides. He didn't need instruction to know to grasp her hips gently, thumb massaging her covered skin.

She looked into his eyes, the dark irises still watching her carefully as he said nothing still. He was waiting for her. Waiting for confirmation. A simple "okay" could have sufficed, but silence lingered and its place, her hands moved to her blouse. She worked the bindings until the last was free and parted, though not completely. Still, her middle and part of her breast was exposed, and she was both nervous and excited, doubly so now. He must have sensed it, because his hands moved slowly from her hips—gingerly making their way up underneath the white fabric. She practically shivered, and breathing suddenly felt difficult. His touch sparked fire on her skin, yet she loved the burn. It was invigorating and the heat flooded everywhere. She wondered if he could feel it, but his eyes were focused on her body now. Yet, she swore she could still see the hunger. She was certain she could feel it in his loins.

His hands ventured inwards, and she must have gasped, because he paused. His eyes flashed to hers, and she blushed shyly. Her gaze dropped, but he stopped any shame with a kiss, deep and loving. It made something burst. Her fingers moved from his shoulders to around his neck, tightening through the loose locks of hair. He responded at once, hands skirting around to press into her back and push her chest to his, deepening the kiss. Many more followed, and then his hands roved along her spine, leaving lingering burn after burn while his mouth left its own scalding marks along her skin and neck. She gasped again, but this time it only seemed to egg him on and his lips moved to her collar, nipping at the tender flesh while a hand ventured to her breast. A sound she'd never made escaped her, and it made him groan in response.

His hands suddenly moved to grasp her rear, but before she could question it, he was standing, and cool air touched her exposed nape only for a second before she felt the soft fabric of sheets on it. Then his mouth was on her again, more passionate and hungry while his hands lifted her leg to his hips and then returned to her sides and chest. They were roaming her skin, as if learning each and every inch of it, while his mouth did the same to hers, and she loved every moment of it. His body pressed into hers, and she could feel he was hard—for her, she realized. She wasn't entirely sure what she felt for it, but the thought excited her and made her own throbbing worse. Made her make more of those sounds—moans, she suddenly knew—and they were needy now.

His hands grasped her shirt, practically ready to rip it off, and a part of her hoped he did. Yet, a second passed, and still it was not gone. His mouth had moved to her neck again, but it paused it in its ministrations. A deep groan came from him, but not like the one from before. No; this was not one of lust, but restraint. Her heart raced with all kinds of questions and worries as he brought his forehead to rest against hers, hands now gently rubbing her sides.

"Gods you are the most fucking beautiful thing I've ever seen…," he rumbled, the strain in his voice palpable. She couldn't hope helping he would stop. The lingering "but" kept her silent, though, watching him; yearning for him. "But you need to be rested for the damn journey…"

"Ezio," she groaned, and she felt his body shift; saw him struggle against himself.

"Catherine, I want to make love to you more than anything right now, but you know the journey was rough getting here… and there could be danger on the way back, too. You need to be as rested as much as possible," he replied, and she wondered if he was telling her or _himself._ Dammit she wished he wouldn't, though. "But my God, when we are back in _Monteriggioni_… you are never leaving that bed—not until I have ravaged every perfect inch of you."

Catherine swallowed slowly, "O-Okay."

"And…," he rumbled, reaching back up to grab and tug on her shirt, "you're keeping this off when we're alone from now on."

"I think I can do that," she laughed, which was cut off by a searing kiss. It made her want him to fuck off with his hesitance, but he was right. If they had sex, she would be too exhausted to travel, and although no one seemed to recognize her yet, they might in the future. It was safer to leave tomorrow. Still, she _was_ somewhat disappointed, but she knew this would happen again—as soon as they were home. She looked forward to it.

"Good," he smirked, kissing her roughly again before he, much to her dismay, pulled back and off. The want lingered badly, but she would endure; surviving on the excitement that was to come.

For now, she settled for the young man freeing himself of his own shirt, helping her free herself of her own, and then settling her atop of him as he lay on the bed. He tugged the sheets over them before happily running his hands along her spine again, slowly now, and roving his eyes over her bare skin. The throbbing had subsided, and so she grew a little shy, although she smiled while her cheeks turned red.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to want to try and make you be bad," she mumbled after a bit.

He made a growl-like sound, "You don't even need to try—you're always a temptation. Now let me look and imagine all the ways I'm going to pleasure you since I have to deny myself the real thing."

"You could just give in."

"Catherine…"

The redhead felt him strain, hands pressing against her back as he fought against himself. She couldn't help grinning wickedly, relishing in the power she had on him. It was exhilarating, and it made her want to be all the crueler, but she refrained—for his sake. And hers, ultimately.

"You probably should have left my shirt on then."

"I am tired of feeling you through cloth. I will not tolerate anything less anymore," he grunted, closing his eyes as he relaxed his hands finally; as if not seeing her was enough.

"Such a needy boy," she chuckled, lying her head down on his chest.

"What do you expect? I've wanted nothing more for some time."

"And we'll both get it soon enough, won't we?" she hummed, and then giggled. "Will you even make it to your room?"

"Our clothes might not, but your first time _will_ be in my bed. I will not let you have any less than you desire. But now stop tempting me, woman! We won't make it to the ship tomorrow if you don't," he hissed, opening his eyes to grab the candle from the night stand and blow it out, encompassing them in darkness. He settled his hands on her lower back.

She snickered, "Sorry. I like teasing you."

"And I am going to punish you dearly for it, kitty-'Cat."

"For once, I look forward to punishment."

"Good. Now _sleep_, or I really will be unable to resist," he groaned, and she heard his head fall back against the pillow. She laughed lightly as she leaned up to give a quick kiss—she was tempted to make it a deep one to ignite that passion again, but she resisted—and settle down.

"I can't wait to be back home," she said instead, and he hummed with agreement. She smiled to herself as she finally closed her eyes, giving him peace. Her mind, however, ran wild with the memory of moments before. It would rage like a wildfire even into her dreams, and she could only hope the journey was quick—she had only just gotten a taste of what could be, and now she was starving for more.

Oh, indeed. She couldn't wait to get home.

**-O-**

**March 25, 1481**

**Venice, Italy**

"Here, the last of the paintings for the _Villa_. Give Lady Maria my love?" Leonardo inquired as he handed the medium-sized, sealed painting to Ezio and looked between the young man and Catherine.

The redhead nodded before embracing their friend, "Of course, Leo. She's going to be sad she missed you leaving, but she'll love the new artwork. Not to mention, with you so famous now we'll get a lot of coin for people coming to see the gallery."

"I am happy to be of assistance… ah, but I am sad to see you two leave so soon."

"It won't be for long—a few months at most, by Antonio's guess. Then we'll be back to continue our work here and the fight against the enemy. I imagine we will go back and forth quite a bit," Ezio added, giving the artist an odd one-armed hug as he held the piece of art in the other.

"Well, as you know, you are always welcome here. In fact, I demand a meal together the moment you are back, so you must come here first."

"Sure thing, Leo," Catherine laughed, shaking her head, and then picked up her pack from the ground to sling it over her shoulder. "We'll write like before—give you a heads up this time."

"I look forward to it, but do write before then; I would like to know how you are faring. I know you are doing much better, but…"

"I'm going to keep getting better—promise. I feel really good today, actually, so there you go."

"And the trip back will give more time to recuperate. You have nothing to worry, my friend. I will ensure her safety," Ezio grinned, wrapping his free arm around her waist.

The artist smiled, "I do not doubt it. It is about time you finally returned the favor."

"Hey!"

Catherine laughed, "Alright, alright… we should probably head out. The ship should be leaving in about thirty minutes, and now that we have Leo's gifts and Fontina's supplies, and our trunk is at the port by now… we're good to go."

"She's right—we shouldn't delay," the young man nodded, and looked to Leo once more. "As I can never say enough: thank-you for all you've done, my friend. We will see you again soon."

"I look forward to it. Now, go on. Safe travels for you both… and do try to remember to send me an invitation to the wedding."

The redhead's cheeks turned red, "Leo!"

"Don't worry—my mother would not let me forget," the young man snickered before leading Catherine to the exit. He glanced over, and the grin that had emerged from his snickering widened. He regarded her, head tilted. "What? You are not fond of the idea of marriage?"

She blinked, confused, but then waved at him, "No—I planned to marry one day."

"Shall I just ask you now then?"

Her cheeks flared again, heart racing with both embarrassment—and excitement, she realized. She was incredibly glad they were out on the street now; she wasn't sure having Leonardo fussing about it wouldn't kill her from the confusing mess she was feeling now.

"I—no," she huffed, and when the young man gave her a confused pout, she went on, "It's just—I mean… we just became lovers… or, well, we haven't even had sex yet, but you know what I mean. It's a little… _soon_ to be talking about marriage. How do you know you'll still want to be with me a month from now?"

Ezio laughed at first, causing her embarrassment to grow. She looked away, huffing more, but it was interrupted when she felt his gloved fingers on her cheek. He turned her face towards him, his expression kind; his smile gentle and loving.

"Catherine, I have loved you even before we became lovers, and we've been together for longer still. I won't be falling out of love any time soon—if ever. No; I am sure you are the only woman I will ever need," he hummed, and every syllable made her heart flutter. He grinned again as he went on, "_But_. If it will ease your fears… I will wait to propose until _two_ months from now instead."

Catherine couldn't help laughing and rolled her eyes, "You cheeky bastard."

"You love me for it," the young man smirked right before giving her a deep, yet somewhat sloppy kiss. He pulled away, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "Now, come on. The boat _will_ leave without us, and I don't want to have to swim after it."

"Blegh. Me, either," the redhead rumbled, sticking her tongue out with disgust. They began their short walk to the harbor then, walking through the streets with a touch of caution. They didn't wear their Assassin garbs, so the guards _shouldn't_ recognize them. Still, they were careful; the enemy was on the search for a woman clad in a dark hood, so they kept to civilian clothing. They had gone with a bit "higher up" style, Antonio figuring it would look odd for two thieves to have afforded passage to _Forlì_, as unfortunate as it was realizing the mentality of the city. It was what it was, though, and the thief master had been kind enough to find some they could "borrow". It would do, and it did—guards barely noticed them as they walked through the edges of the crowd with their things. Catherine mostly considered it a stroke of luck that no one seemed to have gotten a good look of her features; otherwise, she would have been screwed. Her hair color and freckles were far too unusual to blend in if a guard looked close.

Luckily for them, they didn't have to deal with it, and with even more luck they would never have to. At least, not for a while. For now, though, they busied themselves with getting their things onto the ship, making sure everything else was there, and then grabbing a good resting spot. They managed to find one unoccupied in the back, and using a blanket, they made a makeshift curtain for some privacy. Ezio, of course, gladly took advantage, and pulled Catherine with him onto their cot, holding her beneath him as he used her chest as a pillow.

The redhead raised a brow a she chuckled, "I can't imagine they're the comfiest considering their size… but they'll do?"

"They _more_ than do, my love. Trust me. You'll see yourself once we get home," he rumbled in reply, nuzzling against her. It was adorable—really, it was. She couldn't help smiling as she ran her fingers through his hair. He purred almost like a kitten. "Mmm… did I mention how I love when you do that?"

"No, I don't think you did… and just what do you have planned when we get home then?" she inquired, brow raised.

"Oh, you'll see, my love. You'll see—along with everything else," he mused, lifting his head to waggle his brow at her.

"Good Lord—what monster did I unleash in you?" Catherine laughed as he leaned up to steal yet another kiss. Briefly, she wondered if the others could hear them. In the next moment when he grinned impishly at her, she realized she didn't care.

"The worst kind, my kitty-'Cat. Don't worry, though; you will not regret it in the slightest," he growled huskily, leaving a trail of pecks along her jawline and then her neck before once against settling his head against her breast.

Heart racing, she purred herself, "I look forward to it. Can't wait to be home now."

"Neither can I. So much awaits."

"With any luck you'll officially be an Uncle, too."

The young man sat up, paused in thought before smiling, "You're right… and just imagine Claudia's face when we tell her about us. Ottavio can win his bet finally."

"Oh my Gooood—is that really still running? I do want to see Claudia's shock, though. Ha! I bet if she's not yet popped she will when she hears we finally confessed," Catherine giggled.

"She just might," Ezio snickered as he slipped off of her, lying on his side. He rest an arm around her waist before nuzzling his head into her hair now. "I now it's barely been a month, but I miss _Monteriggioni_. I don't know how we'll keep going back and forth."

"I know what you mean. I'm eager to get back… but we'll manage. We have each other, and that's what matters most," she replied gently, reaching over to stroke along his scraggily beard.

"And now I certainly will never let you go… nor let anymore harm come to you. You are mine, Catherine, and I have no intention of letting you go now I have you."

"Same to you, Mr. Romantic," she chuckled, pressing her forehead against him. "I've waited too long to let you out of my grasp… and just to warn you—I'm pretty sure I'm going to be possessive."

"Oh?" he smirked.

"Oh, indeed. Won't let any of those other women even _think_ they have a chance anymore."

"Well, well… who knew my little kitty-'Cat could be so assertive. I like it."

"Yes, well… knowing my man is _my_ man for sure… it makes it easier—and more fun."

"And how will you assert your claim, hmm?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. I'll surprise you," Catherine winked playfully, and Ezio laughed.

"And here I thought you were the most wonderful creature _before_ we confessed… you really will ruin me."

"It's only payback for how you're going to ruin _me_."

He smirked, "Fair enough. So… it'll be about a week before we get to Forli. It'd be probably be good for you to rest as much as you can."

"I can't believe I'm saying this: I'm pretty sure I'm going to get tired of resting by the end of this… and, let me guess: I'm going to regret that once we get home because I won't be getting much rest, right?"

His smirk widened, "You know me so well."

"Pfft. I ought to. I've only been having to deal with your ridiculousness for years now."

"Oh, come now. Was I really so terrible?"

"Yes."

"Ouch," he huffed, feigning hurt. "You didn't have to answer so quickly."

"You were _terrible_, you jerk! You blatantly flaunted women in front of me to make me _jealous _because you thought it would make me confess to you!" she replied, jabbing an accusing finger at him. He made a face, shrugging as if he had no idea what she was talking about. She raised a brow. "You admitted to it the night we confessed. Leonardo told me what you told him, too."

"What? Ah, dammit, Leonardo! Well, I guess I can't deny I did that… I suppose I was a little terrible. But you made it unbearable! And all those men I had to ward away from you!"

"Yeah, _about_ those men," she hummed, brow raised expectantly.

He raised a brow back, "What? Some of the new recruits or visitors thought they might have a chance at courting you. As I said before, I simply… convinced them otherwise."

"So you said… and I still can't believe you did that," Catherine laughed in the end, shaking her head.

"Just as you will not share me with other women," he began, slinking his arm so he could pull her closer in a possessive way. She loved it, of course, and continued to laugh as he went on, "I will not allow any other man to touch you."

"And here I thought _I _was going to be awful… you know this means I'm going to go out of my way to try and get their attention so you'll do just that, right?"

"Must you?" he sighed with mock-exasperation.

"_Yes._"

He hummed thoughtfully before stealing a kiss, "Then I shall simply never let you leave my bed."

"I'll escape—just to give you trouble."

"I'll hunt you down and bring you back."

"And I'll just escape again and again. Just to make you jealous. To make up for all the times you did it to me."

"Dammit, woman…"

"Sure you still love me?"

"I am sure… that I am going to make you pay dearly for every moment you make me jealous," he growled huskily into her neck, voice low and chest rumbling. It excited her, as dumb as that might have been, and she couldn't help grinning mischievously.

"I expect nothing less."

He huffed suddenly, "If I had known how ruthless you would be so ruthless and cunning, I would have better prepared myself against your wiles."

"And where's the fun in that, hmm?" Catherine smirked as she played with some strands of his hair.

"I suppose not much," Ezio replied, shrugging slightly, and then pulled back to regard her for a moment or two. "How am I to survive this boat ride with you?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage. I promise I won't be so bad until we're back home. How's that?" she chuckled.

"My gratitude, kitty-'Cat."

"I am going to be a little bad, though. Just a little."

Ezio only groaned, and she laughed.

* * *

**52 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Just so everyone knows... I can't right a "lemon", as they were once called... that is, I won't be writing their sex scene. It's against the rules here, so, y'know... no porno. I will totally toe the line, though... as you obviously read *waggles brow*. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this fluffy chapter and all the stupid mush they go on about. I'm pretty sure I'm going to use up all my fluff and romance in this three chapters LOL There's only so much I can do, and romance is not my best skill xD_

_Anyways, not much plot-wise-just good 'ol fluff and working on exploring their new relationship status. Yes, Ezio IS holding back-with difficulty. He wants what's best for Catherine, so, despite her being better and wanting it just as bad... he's gotta hold back. Best Boyfriend Award, right? :p Don't worry, though, ladies-they'll have their fun soon ;D_

_And ah... well, not much else to say. Just... yeah. Lots of fluff xD More next chapter!_


	54. Bless the Broken Road III

**TMWolf: **_Not gonna lie, wasn't sure I was going to update this week. Been having some life changes lately, and it's been kind of stressful. Getting acclimated to Graduate school, too, and it's kind of a commute. But I managed to finish a chapter and got this one through an edit (kinda rushed, so please forgive typos!). What this means for the future, though... possibly later updates, I don't know. Depends on how my writing moods goes, I guess. But I will finish this fic, so don't get worried about that! Anyways..._

_As usual, how canon characters act is based upon my interpretation of the canon material._

_For reviews... you guys are always so good to me! I love reading your reviews and hearing what you have to say or answering your questions :)_

**_Kise-cchi:_**_ hehehehe if you thought that was hot... well, things get a bit spicier. Kinda xD You'll get some answers this chapter, too, tee hee. And no problem! Happy to give ya'll something to enjoy! :'D_

_And that was all the guest reviews, so onwards! _

_With the song known, enjoy reading guys!_

**_EDIT:_**_ Re-uploading in part to what seemed like a weird error. Just in case. Also to announce I'm not sure when the next update will be. Again, I do plan to finish this monster... but right now I think I need a small break from a timeline. So I suppose this is saying I'm on a temporary/short hiatus? Not entirely, but enough to where I don't want ya'll to have to come banging on my door not knowing why I didn't update on time xD But yeah, so I think I need a little break, and this is a good place to do so. When we come back it'll be the start of a lot of new things coming to light and the closing Act of this story :)_

* * *

**53 – **_Bless the Broken Road III_

* * *

_Every long lost dream led me to where you are  
And others who broke my heart they were like northern stars  
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms  
This much I know it's true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you  
Yeah_

* * *

**April 5, 1481**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine almost couldn't recall a time she had felt more relief seeing the sight of the city as they rounded the bend. But then she remembered it was only a few days ago when they'd arrived in Forlì and she'd felt the same relief there, too. Still, home was now in sight, looking glorious with the sun setting behind it, and she was more than elated from her spot in front of Ezio. Normally, she'd ride her own horse, but he'd insisted, and she honestly didn't mind. She was plenty tired from the journey, although thankfully only the normal kind—she had fully recovered from her ordeal now beyond feeling like she'd lost a bit of strength and endurance. Being back home meant she could regain it, though, and she knew Mario would know just how to help her do it.

"I can smell Annetta's cooking already," Ezio sighed, briefly tightening his arm around her waist, which brought her closer to his chest.

She tilted her head to look up at him, grinning, "Now, now; no need to insult Fontina even if you're safe from your spoon of wrath."

"Fontina is a wonderful cook—but you and I both agree Annetta is better. You can't deny that."

"…True. Hurry the horse then. I want to finally be home and eat a hot dinner. That, and we need to see if you're an uncle."

"Indeed we do. Hold on," the young man smirked as he tightened his hold on her waist yet again just before urging his horse into a canter. Their second horse followed in suit, and they covered the remaining distance in a matter of minutes. They were greeted by the stable hand, who was both surprised and glad to see them. His assistants took their horses while he professed his happiness at their return, and something about the others going to be even happier. The two didn't doubt it, and so hurried through the gate where the family's insignia set on a flag against the Assassin sigil flowed strongly in the wind.

Their sojourn through the cobbled streets of the city was filled with even more surprised faces, but all were glad to see them, too. Many called out, waving and professing their gratitude. Some even offered goods and treats or special services, but all were declined politely. They had to head to the _Villa_ after all, and not just to eat, although their stomachs were rumbling quite loudly. Thankfully that was a fairly short walk, and although their fellow mercenaries wanted to stop them for a reunion, they slipped through their grips with promises to spar soon, and continued up the final flight of stairs.

The _Villa_ was as beautiful as ever, and Catherine was all too happy to breathe in deeply as they stepped into the marbled front halls. Ezio chuckled as they set their things down in the front entry way for one of the servants to take. The redhead happily rolled her shoulders and stretched, free of the burden, and stood in the center of the main place to take a look at things. There wasn't truly much to note, though; it was just as they had left it, which was fine by her. It was home, and it was good to be able to come to back to a steady place. Although, she supposed it _was_ changed a little.

"What?" Ezio asked when he looked up and caught her smiling at him.

"So… are you going to stay in my room, or me yours?" she inquired

He laughed as he folded his arms, "That _is_ a good question… hmm… I'd have to say mine."

"But—all that climbing."

"My room is bigger, and my bed better. Besides, I enjoy the thought of you all to myself in that tower," he purred as he came over, a lustful look in his eye. They were finally home—he didn't need to hold back.

"_Ezio_!" a familiar voice exclaimed, and the young man was stopped dead in his tracks. For good reason, of course, for from the top of the stairs his little sister came racing down. That, of course, was a surprise since she hadn't run much at all since she had gotten pregnant. The reason for the change was immediately apparent as she came to the final landing: Claudia was, decidedly, less pregnant. She still held some baby fat, but she was definitely free of her child and she raced right into her brother's arm, squeezing tight. He was all too happy to swing her around, laughing right along with her, and kiss her cheek.

"Little Claudia! Oh, it is so good to see you! And look at you—you had a child! Tell me, was it a boy or girl? I have to know!" he exclaimed, eyes bright and glowing.

Claudia laughed, "It was a boy, and we decided to name him after Father. Little Giovanni, we call him. You are an uncle, Ezio!"

The young man's eyes softened at once, "Giovanni… it's perfect. Mother must have been so happy…"

"She was. She began to cry when we said the name, but they were happy tears. Oh! Oh, you must see him—but quietly! Ottavio got him to bed not long ago, and he is sleeping, too. He has been doing most of the care while I caught up on some of the cities expenses. He is a good father, Ezio—just as I told you… but goodness our son is an Auditore for sure! He is so rambunctious and only two weeks old! I was barely able to get away to tend to things! All he does is eat and eat and cry and soil himself! He is so veracious! Just like Mother said you were when you were a baby! Federico, too!"

"_Was_ he now? Explains a lot," Catherine mused, brow raised wryly, but she was trying so hard not to grin. She did anyways, and Ezio flashed a quick glare to his sister that was just as quickly replaced with a beaming smile.

"I would love to see him Claudia—as would Catherine, whom you should say hello to as well."

"I was going to, yes, thank-you. I simply thought you would enjoy the good news," the young woman huffed before turning to the redhead and embracing her just as tightly.

"Don't worry—I thoroughly enjoyed learning that Ezio has been a naughty boy all his life," Catherine snickered as she pulled back from the young woman.

"Oh, indeed. But now, please, come; I wish for you to see Giovanni as well. You are as much a part of our family, and I would not have you miss out on seeing your nephew."

"I'd love to, Claudia, thank-you… and congratulations! You really do make a great mother."

The young woman flushed as she smiled and even giggled a little before turning to Ezio to take his hand and then Catherine's. She tugged them towards the stairs, and they followed dutifully.

"Have you two eaten, by the way?" she inquired, to which they answered they hadn't. "Supper was some time ago, but there should be some left over. Afterwards you must tell me of your travels to _Venezia_! I always wanted to go. Oh, and you will need to speak to Mario. We had no idea you would be returning so soon, so he—well, all of us, really—will wish to know what brought you back."

"We got into some trouble," Catherine chuckled, causing the young woman to pause at the top of the stairs. She gave them both a look, and then shook her head with a sigh.

"I should have known. Catherine I can forgive some, and imagine the trouble only happened because you got carried away, Brother."

"Actually… it was my fault this time—Ezio was out of service when it went down," the redhead grinned a little sheepishly, but she had to stifle a laugh when the young woman balked.

"God help us all!" Claudia guffawed, shaking her head as she continued down the hall. "And here I thought my brother could never corrupt you!"

"Yes, thank-you, baby sister, I am right here," Ezio snorted, although he was rather amused by it all.

"You know I am right. But now hush—we are almost there, and I do not want to wake him. He will throw a terrible tantrum when _wide awake_," Claudia sighed, shaking her head as they entered the final hallway to her room. They rounded the corner and came to a closed door where she turned the knob as carefully and quietly as she could. A darkened room was revealed to them, a large, empty bed in the center, and to the right of it the familiar figure of Ottavio sitting next to a crib. He was slumped over in the chair, disheveled and looking exhausted. In the construct next to him was their son, sleeping far more soundly. Claudia brought them next to the two, careful to not wake the father. Catherine and Ezio looked down at the babe, whom had a slightly pale face, not yet touched by the sun, but a full head of dark hair, and round, red cheeks. He was a decent-sized child, and would undoubtedly be a terror once he got to running around.

Being that the father was exhausted and needed his sleep, Claudia urged them out after only a little while, and sighed happily as she closed the door.

"Ah… he is so good to him… I could not ask for a better husband. He loves him so much, too. All the other men tease him about it!" she chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I really should get him to bed… I need to take over again."

"Well, we can find the kitchen on our own, and talk can wait. To be honest, I'm starting to feel tired. We may just eat and talk later. We, ah… have a _lot_ to talk about," Ezio chuckled back, glancing to Catherine.

The redhead met his gaze, "Indeed we do."

She glanced back at Claudia after a moment, and a shit-eating grin immediately appeared on her face when she saw the confused looks the young woman gave them. Her eyes were narrowed, nose scrunched, and lips turned downward ever so slightly in her stern bewilderment. Her brother saw it, too, and the very same grin consumed him as well.

"What… _kind_ of things?" his sister pressed, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Oh, you, know. Just… _things_," he replied at a purr, waggling his brow just before he took Catherine's chin into his hands and placed a sloppy kiss on her lips. It wasn't very long, and he looked to his sister, whose mouth had promptly dropped and eyebrows lifted to her hairline.

"I—wha—when!?" she exclaimed a little too loudly, causing her to look back at her door with alarm, and then to them once more where she repeated with a loud whisper, "You are… _together_?"

Catherine snickered, "Yes. We are. But don't go telling everyone just yet. We… well, we want to tell them ourselves."

"What!? How do you expect me to just keep quiet!? We have all been waiting _years_ for you two to finally confess!" the woman hissed, throwing her hands up.

The redhead was the one to raise her brows this time, "_You've _all been waiting years?"

"Yes, you idiots! We all saw it, but you were both too foolish, but ah! Finally!" Claudia beamed, but then promptly jabbed a finger at her brother. "Have you made an honest woman of her yet? Proposed?"

"Wha—Claudia!"

Ezio snickered, "No, I have not yet, Sister. Catherine wishes to… take it slow. I've not commissioned a wedding band yet, anyways."

"I think you have both waited long enough," Claudia sniffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Also, Ottavio has a bet riding on a proposal. I would ask you do your best to help him make good on it."

"Oh my Gooooooooooood," Catherine groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

Ezio's grin got worse, "I shall do my best."

"Well, I see you began the reunion without me," a familiar voice chuckled, and all three heads turned to find Mario making his way down the hallway towards them. He was dressed down, though still carried his sword, and there was elation across his features as he came and embraced them both warmly. He beamed brightly as he regarded them from a step back. "I admit I am surprised you returned so soon, but I am glad it seems _Venezia_ treated you well."

"Indeed it did, and there is much to talk about," the young man mused, sharing a look with Catherine.

Claudia sighed softly, "I will take that as my leave then. I must get my husband _into _the actual bed, after all. Uncle, be sure they get something to eat before you talk, though. I doubt they have had a proper, hot meal in a while. And do not keep them too late."

"As you command," Mario laughed lightly, and then gestured for Catherine and Ezio to follow while his niece slipped back into her room. When he got curious looks from the two, he laughed again. "Your sister is quite the commander, my dear boy—especially now she has had a child. There is a touch of mother hen to her now; especially with her husband. I can hardly get him out for training."

"…Maybe we should have stayed back in _Venezia_," the redhead mused, earning a chuckle from her commander.

"No, it is good you are back. I was actually rather worried when I got your letter, Ezio. You did not write much, but I am glad to see you are both intact… you _are _intact, yes?" the older man inquired, pausing at the stairs to give them a look. The two exchanged glances before Catherine met the commander's gaze.

"Now we are… sort of. Well, Ezio is."

"…We should head to my study then. Come. I had food prepared and sent there the moment I heard you were back."

"Thank-you," Ezio nodded, and they followed him into the room. Sure enough, food was waiting, and they happily gobbled up about half of it before they gave the Commander their attention once more. He watched them expectantly, and it was Catherine whom sighed, stepped forward, pulled out the Clock from her pocket, and set it on the desk. Mario looked to it, eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and flicked his gaze between her and Ezio.

She nodded, "He knows—about everything."

"So you decided to tell him."

"I, ah, sort of had to. It… well, I learned something new about it."

"'Something new'?" he inquired, eyes narrowing.

Ezio stepped forward, face set sternly, "It causes her pain—great harm even. Its power is too great. Too dangerous."

"But I still can't get rid of it—it won't let me. You know that bit… but, yes… when I used it about a week or two ago, I did so more than I ever had before, and… well, I think I almost died. Maybe. I don't think it would let me get to that point, but I was in bad shape. It took me days before I could walk or run, and even now I feel like I get tired faster, and when Ezio and I had a sparring match on the way here… I, ah… did not do as well."

"…I see," Mario rumbled, looking away with his brows scrunched as he rubbed his chin. He was not happy, that was evident, but like them, he knew there was not much that could be done. So he let out a deep, heavy breath of air. He fixed his gaze on them, "So you have returned to recover then?"

"That is one reason, but," Ezio began, gesturing to the redhead, "mostly it is because of her efforts with her Clock. She had to use it to prevent a massacre of the Thieves' Guild in _Venezia_ and myself, but it also created a massive stir. The guards have been searching for her—for both of us, actually, but mostly her. The leader of the Thieves, Antonio, asked we leave for our own safety, and to help calm things down."

"A wise move… so you met a guild in _Venezia_—you made allies?" he mused, and they both nodded. "That is good… Excellent work, both of you. I had a suspicion there would be some there, but without confirmation… well, I did not want to give you false hope. I am glad you found aid—I am sure you have come to realize you need it there."

"Definitely," Catherine replied, silently burying her curiosity. While she didn't think Mario was lying, she wasn't sure he was telling the entire truth about the guilds. She couldn't believe he wouldn't have said something even if it was to prevent false hope. That wasn't like him. She would respect his choice, though, and wait until things became clearer. "We struck an alliance the first day we were there, actually. Antonio wants us to help rebuild his Guild and weaken Emilio at the same time. We still don't know all who else is working with the Templar, but we're bound to find out as we go. Unfortunately… Antonio thinks it will be years before we can touch Emilio. His control is too strong in the district, but the plan is to slowly release it and help the people—to turn them to _our_ cause."

"That is often how things must be in our war. It is not one that happens quickly like the ones you hear go on between monarchies. It sometimes takes even generations, but your work _will_ come to fruition so long as you hold fast," Mario spoke, and they knew it to be true.

"I would rather we end him sooner, though… but it is what it must be," Ezio added with a slight sigh. "We're not sure how long until it's safe to return, but Antonio will send word once he needs our help again. Until then… we will be home."

"Well, I am always glad to have you both back. I am sorry you suffered, little one, but you will have no need to use the artifact here," the Commander smiled, reaching out to touch the redhead's shoulder warmly.

She grasped his hand, "Thank-you. I know I'm safe here… and now I can really work on regaining my strength. I'm not sure how long it will take, though…"

"We'll get you there, don't worry. I'll be there to help the whole way," Ezio smiled, coming over and wrapping an arm around her waist, and then placed a kiss on her brow. She smiled back, leaning into his touch, and then returned her attention to Mario, whose eyes were wider than she'd seen them in a long while. The young man noticed, too, and he grinned like a fox. "Ah, right. We forgot to tell you the _other_ news…"

"We, ah… we're a, y'know, couple," the redhead chuckled a bit sheepishly, and then laughed when Mario's face lit up.

"Ah! That is wonderful! It is about damn time, boy!" the older man snapped, jabbing a finger at the young man, whom stepped back with his arms raised in surrender. "I was ready to clobber you both for being so foolish about it!"

"Wait—_you, too_? What, has everyone been hoping we'd gotten together by now?" Catherine exclaimed, flabbergasted.

Mario gave her a look, "Of course! Who do you think has been letting them keep on with their little bet?"

"Wha—_Mario!_ Are you kidding me!?" she groaned, slapping her hands to her face.

"So… how many men are losing coin?" Ezio smirked, and earned a smack to his belly that made him laugh.

"About half—we forced them to when everyone else kept betting you would become a couple. It seems, Nephew, you convinced many when you scared that one rookie shitless when he mentioned he was going to try and court Catherine."

"Ezio!"

The young man shrugged, "What? I couldn't just let him waltz in and try to steal you from me!"

"Oh my God, you're such a jealous man-child, why do I love you?"

"You know _exactly_ why, and come now—do you really think any of the others compare? You think they would be better?" he smirked, folding his arms over his chest. The redhead huffed, setting her hands on her hips, and giving him a slight glare. It faltered, though, and became a smirk as she snorted haughtily.

"Actually, Giotto wasn't too bad. Had a nice build; rugged face; made good jokes. Matteo was a charmer—quite skilled, too. Maybe Piero, or even Leonello were both good choices. Oh, and—."

"Catherine, for God's sake, please stop giving him names of my men to kill," Mario rasped, rolling his eyes. The redhead looked to her Commander innocently, although she knew full well Ezio was becoming rather riled up. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed and how his lip twitched ever-so-slightly. Oh, God, she was going to have fun with his jealousy.

"Oh, don't you worry, _dear_. You know you're the only one for me," she winked with a playful laugh, which only made the young man make a huffy grunt-like sound. The redhead snickered as she turned to the older man. "So I take it that means we have your blessing… and the entirety of the city's?"

"Well, you have _mine_, and all of the family's I don't doubt along with the men… but I am sure many will also be disappointed to have lost a chance. But worry not for them. Rather, you _should_ be concerned of the Madam Auditore's opinion. You know you need her approval, Ezio," Mario mused rather wryly, scratching at his bird.

The young man shrugged, waving off the concern, "Mother will approve. She adores Catherine."

"Perhaps… but she is your mother, and you should get her blessing regardless. If not for your courting, then for marriage."

"Okay, what—why does everyone jump to marriage so fast? We've only been courting for like two weeks."

"She acts like she'd say no if I asked right now," Ezio smirked, bringing a flush to the redhead's face. "But I am being good to her and _waiting_. You are right, though, Uncle. I will need to speak to Mother of this—to give the good news."

"Tomorrow, though," Catherine groaned, rubbing her face. "All of this talking is making me tired and we rode a loooooong way. I'm ready to sleep for a whole day again."

"See? She cannot even handle a simple ride. She's become _lazy_ it seems," the young man mused with mock-exasperation, but could not hold back his laugh when his love sent him a seething glare.

"I do not doubt you must both be weary, actually, and I would recommend we leave more discussion of things to come for tomorrow. I will not require you to start training right away, and let you both settle back in, but we may need help: we have begun construction on new buildings outside the city. More homes."

"More expansion?" Catherine inquired, to which Mario nodded.

"Indeed, but, again, we can discuss it tomorrow. For now, both of you go and rest," he went on, then paused before suddenly grinning wryly. "Shall I have the men send _both_ of your things to Ezio's room then?"

While Catherine flushed, the young man laughed, "Indeed! And feel free to have her room made into a guest one. She will not be using it anymore."

"Considering how I'm about to kick this jerk's ass, I'd suggest you leave it be. Depending on if I like his bed better, _he_ may be sleeping in my room _alone_ some nights," the redhead hissed, but accepted the young man's arm around her waist.

Mario chuckled, shaking his head, "Ah, young love. I knew it once briefly. But, enough with you two. Take your food with you, and sleep. Again, it is good to have you both home and well. And do not worry, little one. We will make you strong again, and then stronger still

The redhead nodded, smiling gently, "Thank-you, Mario. We'll see you in the morning."

With a similar bid good night from her companion, a quick return of her Clock to her pocket, and gathering their plates of food, the two lovers ventured their way back upstairs and into the young man's humble abode. It was more lavish than she recalled, and a great deal had been added in terms of furniture and decorations. Most were variations of red and gold to match his house colors, and there was even a crest combined with the Assassin sigil hanging over the bed. Desks, tables, a dresser, and even a mannequin for his gear had been installed. It was there the young man placed his things as he undressed, while she set hers on a chair. It felt good to be rid of it all, and she was even happier to finish the last bits of her meal and flop down onto his bed. She vaguely noted the mattress had been changed, and the sheets were nicer than she remembered. Of course, she forgot all about it the minute the owner of said bed pulled her into his arms and gave her a deep, searing kiss.

"Mmm… you taste like the soup," she snickered.

"As do you… at least on your lips. I'm rather curious as to how the rest of you tastes, though. I have been forced to endure with only watching my food these agonizing weeks. No more, though," Ezio rumbled huskily, his beard brushing against her cheek as he brought his lips to her collar, nipping lightly. Her heart raced as she gasped at the shivers it gave her, fingers clenching at his shirt. He ended up sighing, though, and left only a kiss as he flopped down next to her. "Tomorrow, that is. I admit I'm actually exhausted, too."

"Ha! And you called me out on it," Catherine barked before pouting in the next moment. "Don't tease me like that, though. You get me all excited for nothing."

"You love it, and don't worry—I will make good on my threats tomorrow, regardless if Uncle needs help or not. _You_ certainly will not be leaving this bed."

"Such a naughty boy," she giggled, turning to face him.

He smirked, "The worst. Now, off with that shirt."

"Such a _needy_ boy, too. Don't forget to take yours off, either," she grumbled, but did as he asked—not that she would have said no, anyways; she liked feeling their bare chests together. He happiy heeded her command, too, and he did not waste a second gathering her in his arms. She was all too eager to settle her head against him, relishing in the comfort of his body and the bed, which was infinitely better than the ground, and even the one in _Venezia_. Oh, yes, they would sleep well tonight, for there would be very little of it tomorrow.

**-O-**

**April 6, 1481**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine didn't know why she thought things would go smoothly. Honestly, she should have known better. Things never did like to work out perfectly in her love life, and while Ezio was definitely _still_ her lover, it seemed fate wanted to waylay any effort to finally do more than just kiss and touch. She'd had a lovely preview of what was to come on the road home when he'd played around with his hands, but now she wanted the _whole_ deal, but dammit all if she wasn't apparently going to have to work for it.

By that, of course, she meant going through some morning exercise while Ezio was pulled away to work with Claudia on some negotiations and then physical work out in the construction area—and also, Catherine suspected, to talk about certain matters that had been hinted at yesterday. She did a quick run around the city and was pleased to find she didn't collapse or lose a lung because of it. From there she did attack maneuvers, and while that did leave her huffing and puffing for air, she still managed. It was a letdown, though, and she cursed the artifact hidden in her pocket. She _was_ getting stronger, however, as her spars with Ezio on the way home had left her worse off. It was a reminder of what using the power of a god did, though—the punishment for it—and she made sure to keep it in her mind at all times. She would have to work hard not to use it, although she also had to remember she was still here in this time. Her work was not yet done. She still had to save Ezio from something, and she didn't know what, which meant she still had to use the Clock at some point.

Until then, though—and until her next training session later in the day, she took her time walking the streets of her home—also, in part, to avoid Claudia who probably wanted to interrogate her like her brother. Not much had changed at all, which was nice. Oh, there were certainly more people and the buildings and foliage looked better and ever, but it was home like she remembered it from the day she had come. Everyone knew her still, and she still knew most everyone, although there were plenty of new visitors. There were definitely more of those than she remembered, which was good for the city. It meant more coin and popularity to spread around, which brought more coin. So it was nice to see.

She wasn't traveling just for sight-seeing, however. Rather, she had a purpose—one she actually meant to keep on the down-low. As such, she took to the roof tops once she was done looking around, and hopped from building to building. It was easy enough to get the lavish structure, nestled snugly in the corner left of the entrance gate. The pleasant scents hit her nose long before she reached it, and so was inundated by the smell of lavender as she slipped into the roof entrance—the same one she knew Ezio had loved to use. It brought her into a small, but quaint room that was filled with various items. It was just the attic, so she made for the entrance, which was just an easy-to-lift slab of wood. From there she slipped down into the main area, and she had to admit the place was actually rather stunning. She'd never been inside _The Carnal Rose_, but she could see why it was so famous—for more than just the women, anyways. Ghita took good care of it.

Speaking of, she spotted the Madame clad in her red and gold on the bottom level. Catherine leaned over the railing, noting all the other scantily clad courtesans spread around, some entertaining men, and others lounging about. She could hear sounds of ecstasy here and there, and for once they didn't make her uneasy. That wasn't to say she was a little uncomfortable, but mostly for her reason for coming here. Said reason had her regard the women, note how they worked the men like they were nothing; how they made them swoon and gush and yearn. She didn't want to admit it, but she was a little jealous. She didn't know how to do all that. Oh, Ezio yearned and wanted her, but she didn't know how to work a man like the ladies did. She was a greenhorn at it all, and realized how awkward she would be doing things. Hell, she had nearly been a nervous wreck in _Venezia_ when she'd taken just a _little _initiative, and even then he'd taken over quickly enough.

_'Well, time to try and change things,' _Catherine sighed softly, and made a quick whistle—one Ghita would know. Sure enough, the woman's gaze turned upwards in an inconspicuous way befitting a Madame, and after a moment, she spotted the redheaded young woman. She raised a curious brow, but adhered to the young woman's gesture to come up. With grace and smoothness only an expert would have, the Madame strolled upstairs past all the customers and ladies—she paused briefly to speak to one of the girls; possibly a second-in-command, so to speak, whom went downstairs afterwards—and came to stand beside Catherine.

"Not much has been able to surprise me these days, but imagine mine when I saw a certain young lady in here of all places," Ghita hummed, a teasing smile upon her face as she leaned on the railing with the redhead.

"Yes, well… I…ah… needed some advice," she replied, and the Madame raised a brow.

"From _me_?"

"Yes, from _you_," Catherine chuckled, albeit sheepishly. "It's, um… well… a little… personal. Or rather… intimate is the better word."

Ghita stood up, "Aaah. I see… come—there is a room we might speak."

"Thank-you," the redhead replied, and promptly followed the Madame down the hall and through a door hidden behind a curtain. It was a small, lavish study lined with shelves of book and decorated with plenty of paintings and other lavish items. Ghita settled herself down upon a lounging chair and ushered Catherine to sit at the other end. In front of them was a table, upon which some biscuits had been set. The Madame offered, but the redhead politely refused, giving the woman time to regard her for a few moments.

"So. You wished to discuss something… intimate? I take it you mean about Ezio."

Catherine flushed, "Jesus Christ, does _everyone_ know yet?"

"Not everyone," Ghita chuckled. "Just those who are good at finding out information. My ladies will be sorely disappointed once they learn, though. He was one of their favorite patrons."

"_Thank-you_ for that."

"What? It is only the truth, although he has not visited much in the last year—hardly ever at all. He has been quite smitten with you for some time, my dear. Anyways, you wished to ask something of me?"

"I changed my mind, give me the damn biscuits," Catherine groaned, taking about three of them, and then sighing deeply. "It's intimate because… well, I… I want… do right… by him."

"How so?"

"Well, we haven't… made love yet," she rumbled, and groaned at the surprised look she was given. "Not for any particular reason—just… we haven't gotten to. We… well, he… did some touching and plenty of kissing, but… not more. Yet."

"You are worried you will not be able to?"

"Er—ah, no. No, he meant to this morning. We almost did, actually, but he was called away."

"So what troubles you, then?"

"I'm just… I'm worried," Catherine sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. When Ghita said nothing, she glanced at the woman, and sighed a second time. "I'm worried about not… measuring up. Or what not. I don't want to disappoint him."

Of all the reactions, laughter was not what the redhead expected. It was what she got, though, and her blush increased by an infinite amount as Ghita stifled it to a giggle.

"My apologies, Catherine. I am not making fun of you. I promise, I am not. It is just… of all the things to worry about, and it is _disappointing_ him? Surely, you jest?" she inquired with amusement, but when the redhead didn't reply, she sobered. "Ah. You do not. Catherine, you could not disappoint him if you tried."

"Ghita… I've_ never_ been with someone. Ezio's the first guy I've _kissed_. I've never been intimate. I've never… I don't know what to do."

"And is this an issue for you? For him? Has he expressed displeasure?"

"Well, no, but… I just… I wanna do right by him. I want to make sure he's happy, too."

"So how do you hope to fix this, mm?"

"I… well, I was hoping to know what… umm… it's… well, Ezio always liked coming here… so, I mean… the women... they know how to make the men happy. So I thought, maybe…"

"You hoped to see if they could share this knowledge?" Ghita mused, to which Catherine nodded. The Madame hummed thoughtfully as she tapped her lip. Her eyes rested on the redhead for a long while before she reached for a biscuit and took a quick bite. When she swallowed, she returned her gaze to her visitor. "Catherine, what my ladies do for these men… it is not for their happiness. It is for distraction—and for business. We take their coin in exchange for distracting them from the pain and agony of their world; to give them a false sense of security; to make them feel _good_. We do not make them feel happy. We do not elevate them from their position or take them away from their misery. Ultimately they return to it, but we are always here to provide them distraction whenever they please—so long as they have the coin.

She smiled when the redhead stared back in confusion, "You wish to make Ezio happy? Then you need not to do anything but be as you are. Is he not happy with you already? Has he shown displeasure? Unhappiness?"

"He—I… er… no. He's… we've been very happy. He's only been unhappy we keep getting blocked from being intimate."

"Then you need not worry."

"But—I want… I…want… I want to be able to… please him, too. He knows how to pleasure me, but I don't know about him…"

"Ah, I see. You wish to return the favor, mm?" Ghita mused, brow raised wryly.

"I… yeah, I guess. He… I kinda took the initiative one time, and I think he liked it a lot… but it took a lot of courage for me to do it, and I'm worried if I don't… y'know, do my own part…"

"My dear, you worry far too much," the Madame chuckled, shaking her head and finishing the last of her biscuit. "If Ezio loves you—_truly_ loves you, then he will never be disappointed or unhappy with you. And should you truly feel you two have some… issue with this… then simply speak to him. You see, part of the reason my ladies are so successful and men return here often, is because we learn about them. We _talk_ to them. My ladies find what troubles their clients, and they learn what they seek to satisfy their desires. Some want to simply fuck; some wish to make love; some wish to be pleasured; some wish to give pleasure; some wish to only talk. Men with all sorts of needs come, and we learn them by talking to them. As for what this means for you… my lesson is this: _ask_ Ezio what he wants. Do not assume he will tell you, and do not assume he will be fine with any and everything. Ask him what he wishes, and he will tell you. If you are uncertain you can comply, then ask him to be patient, and ask him to help teach you. He _will_ be able to show you _exactly_ what he likes and wants. Likewise, you will find he will do the same for you. Such is the way to true intimacy—to full ecstasy. Do you understand?"

Catherine was quiet, not answering at first. Her mind raced, taking in the woman's words. It wasn't what she had hoped or thought she would hear. No, she'd thought she might be given some tips on how to make Ezio feel good—how to give good blow or hand jobs or something, but this was something else. This was better, actually. Much better. It was what she _needed_ to hear.

Breathing in deeply, she looked to the Madame, "Yes… I think I do. I… thank-you, Ghita. I, uh… I think I feel better now. I'm still gunna be nervous, but… y'know."

"Just ask him. Trust me, my dear. Ezio will be good to you. Any man willing to withstand the call of my ladies for the woman he pines for is not one to abandon her so easily. You have nothing to fear."

"That… yeah, that's true," Catherine chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm just nervous—this will be my first time."

"All girls are nervous of their first. Do not worry, though; Ezio will take care of you. There is a reason he is a favorite."

"I… I feel like I should be mad at that, but I'm also relieved at the same time?" the young woman mused, brow scrunched up to show her conflict. Ghita laughed as she stood and waltzed over to a cabinet. From its doors she removed a satchel that had a lingering scent of cinnamon. It was very pleasing, and the Madame handed it over to the redhead.

"Here. Back when Ezio came often, he always enjoyed this scent the most. You know how to use it?"

"Yeah. I've burned an incense before. Thank-you—again, Ghita. I really owe you."

"More than you know. My ladies will be so upset knowing he won't look their way anymore," the Madame chuckled, to which Catherine grinned sheepishly. "Now, go on. Worry not, and may you have a pleasurable night, my dear."

The redhead flushed again, but she noted she wasn't as nervous as she had been before. The Madame had given her just the right advice, and so she kept the cinnamon incense close as she bid Ghita farewell, and left the same way she had come. She wasted no time in returning to the _Villa_, and would have slipped right up into his room to start preparing—it was almost evening—but she stopped when she noticed a familiar figure in the gallery. The woman wore a dress of gold with red adornments, and her hair was loose in threads of gold. She was walking slowly, admiring the painting, and even adjusting them as she needed. Such was the duty of Maria Auditore in the _Villa_, and she no doubt had Leonardo's painting already set up for view for the visitors that occasionally came by.

She looked like she was doing well. She had been for some time—ever since she had started to talk again and with Annetta's return. Her face had filled out, although now she had some wrinkles she hadn't before. Yet, they hardly detracted from her radiance or noble air. Her smile gave away the kindness she carried, though, as did her gentle eyes—of which flicked in Catherine's direction, causing her to jump slightly. The Lady's smile widened and she motioned for the redhead to come over. The redhead's cheeks matched her hair as she quickly padded to the woman's side, and was bade to look at the painting before them—the _Birth of Venus_.

"Beautiful, no?" Maria hummed, giving a glance to Catherine, whom nodded.

"Definitely. I've always liked this one. Well, I like a lot of them, actually. You've done wonders in here," she replied, looking around.

"Thanks to you, my dear, and to my children. This is as much your and theirs work as it is mine," she chuckled and began to walk. Catherine followed, of course, and listened keenly as the woman went on. "You have done a great deal of good, in fact—especially with my family. You helped them when I could not, and I owe you much for that. You have helped my son most of all, and I have not missed your effect upon him. He has grown a great deal—become so strong and proud. I see his father in him, and the greatness of the Auditore's in him as well. You make him a better man."

"I… I mean… I just… I try to do the right thing, and encourage him, too."

"You make him better all the same, and it is only fitting he has finally seen it himself," Maria smiled knowingly, and the redhead stared dumbly. The older woman laughed and turned to face the young woman. "Catherine, I mean to say I approve of your court ship. You do not need to play fool with me; I am very aware of your affections for one another. Ezio has often spoke of you in council with me. He did not confess, no, but he spoke highly of you, and I know love when I see it. It is not unlike the love I had with Giovanni. It is perhaps stronger even, as you support him as I could not my husband."

"You shouldn't belittle what you did—Giovanni would not have been as strong as he was without you."

"Indeed. Just as Ezio would not, and so you have my blessing completely and wholly. I only ask you continue as you are and do not change. And, of course, make one another happy. Do what Giovanni and I could not," the Lady Auditore spoke softly, a sad look coming across her face as she reached out and took Catherine's hands in hers. The redhead returned the hold with a gentle squeeze and an even gentler smile in kind.

"I promise—we will. Always. And, thank-you, my Lady. It means everything you approve."

"Of course, my dear. Just, do me a kindness and do not take too long to grant me another grandchild, mm?" she inquired, and laughed with delight as the redhead's widening eyes.

"Geez—I swear I'm going to die from embarrassment before we even get married!" she groaned, shaking her head. "Please show some mercy on me?"

"I will… consider it. Now, go on. I have taken enough of your time, my dear," Maria chuckled, placing a kiss upon Catherine's brow and then turning away. The redhead sighed, mostly with relief. Yet again her worries were abated, and she felt even surer of herself now. Well, at least unless the older woman suddenly smirked. "Oh, and a word of warning: you may wish to keep an eye out for my daughter. Ezio apparently did not divulge enough about your new relations, and she is determined to find the answer."

"Oh good Lord… I may as well just get it over with since she's _going _to find out at some point today, whether she strangles Ezio or me or _both_ of us," Catherine chuckled, shaking her head.

"Either way, good luck, my dear."

_'I'm going to need it,'_ the redhead silently mused before turning around and leaving the woman to her gallery.

Now that left only one thing, and with nothing—or hopefully nothing—left to stop her, she finally made her way to the stairs to Ezio's room. A quick venture up and she was within the rather large abode, which was still empty. That was a relief, actually; it gave her time to prep the gift from Ghita—and also to steel herself for what was to come tonight. She had various concerns about it still, but she pushed them back as she kept herself busy with things. It would still be a few hours before supper, so she did what she could: reading; writing; drawing; eating a little early; anything to pass the time. She even used Claudia, whom finally found her, and a rather long, arduous talk was had with the young woman. Thankfully, that conversation ended well enough and the young woman was quite pleased of their union—or at least eventual one. Indeed, Claudia was very happy to know Catherine would become her sister—officially—at some point, and only urged her to make sure to keep her "fool of a brother" in line. Catherine promised—with a laugh—and that was, somehow, all that came of that.

From there things remained relatively quiet with the food done, and she kept herself busy with her tumultuous thoughts and doodling here and there. That is, until she heard a set of boots coming to the stairway. Her breath hitched, and despite everything she had been told, her heart still raced fast with excitement and worry. She waited with anxiousness for Ezio to haul himself up from the entrance, smile at the sight of her, pause as he sniffed the air suddenly, and raised a brow as he came over.

"Is that… cinnamon?" he inquired as he wrapped his arms around her.

She chuckled, heart still racing, "Yeah, it is. Thought it would be nice."

"It's wonderful," he purred before stealing a kiss. He parted to begin taking off his belt, boots, and weapons he always carried. "Have you eaten yet? I went ahead—I was starving after all the work today."

"I ate a little early, so I'm good. Are you… tired?" she asked tentatively, and flushed when he gave her an odd look. He grinned wryly, though as he returned to her side and cupped her cheek in his hands.

"A little, but I will always have time and energy for you. Besides… as I recall… we were… interrupted this morning," he growled softly, stealing kiss after kiss between words while his hands roved.

"Indeed we were," Catherine giggled as she turned slightly, and, her fears dwindling some, nudged him back. His legs hit the edge of the bed, causing him to fall onto it. He laughed, but then grew quiet as he watched her reach up and undo her ribbon, letting her hair fall out and dangle over her shoulders. He leaned up, eyes roving her as she came closer and was the one to cup the side of his face now. He had to tip his chin for her to easily reach his lips, brushing them together. For a split moment, even as his hands moved along her sides while she nestled between his legs, her insecurities returned. He must have noticed, for the ministrations with his fingers paused and he regarded her carefully.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"I, ah… um…" she began, struggling to remember what she had gone to the Madame for. She breathed in deeply, though, and forced herself to calm down and think on things. It came back to her somehow, and she pushed her forehead against his. "I just… I want to… make you happy."

"Catherine, don't be silly—you already do," he laughed lightly, running a hand along her back, and although her shirt was between his palm and her flesh, she still shuddered at his touch.

"No, I know. I mean like… I want to _physically_ make you happy. I want to do what you do to me—make me feel _that_ way. I… I don't know how to, though. And don't tell me you don't need me to. I _want_ to. I want to do right by you, like you do me," she replied, and he was quiet for a long while as she finished. Her heartbeat jumped to an insane level during the wait, worried she had done something wrong. However, her anxiety turned to surprise when he suddenly grasped her rump to pull her to him, thighs pressed against his. She gasped when he rolled them, pinning her beneath him, and he kissed her deeply and with such passion her breath was practically stolen from her lungs. She could only stare, wide-eyed when he pulled back but an inch.

"You are, without doubt, the most beautiful and wonderful and amazing woman I have ever had the joy of meeting and ever loved… and I could never nor would I ever love another more than I do you right now," he rumbled, and her chest swelled. He kissed her again as he let his hands wander once more, groping and massaging her body in such a way that sparks shot through each and every spot he touched. "You said not to say so, but I will: you don't need to do _anything_ for me, Catherine. You are exactly what I want, and you make me happy physically. I promise you that. But, I know you are a damned stubborn creature, and so I will gladly tell you what you can do for me—one day. But tonight I am going to finally make good on my promise and make you scream in pleasure. _That_ will make me happy tonight. So tell me—are you at ease now?"

"I, ah… y-yeah," she somehow managed to squeak out, and an almost feral look came over him—or was that lust? Both? She wasn't really sure anymore, but she was more than willing to find out.

"Good. Because I am at my limit right now," he groaned, and, sure enough, he kissed her even harder. She returned it, of course, and her hands mimicked his own; searching and feeling every inch of his skin. Their clothes were in the way, though, and he must have thought the same thing, because just as she started to undo his buttons, he essentially ripped hers to expose her bare flesh to him. He did not waste time exploring, and every inch he found sent shocks of fiery pleasure through her. She quivered and shuddered and gasped and moaned, and he responded in kind, growing more relentless and wild at every sound she made. It was almost too much, and she hated the fact she shook as his touch and tongue ventured further down. He had not gone that far before, and his senses were wholly in tune with hers—enough to where he slowed until he paused entirely and returned to her lips, kissing them gently this time. He met her gaze, searching them. When he did not find his answer himself, he spoke.

"Catherine, do you want this right now—_truly_? I don't mind if you do not. I will not take you if you don't feel you're ready. I want this badly, yes, but I won't force you. You have to want it, too, but I will wait if I must," he said gently, reaching up to cup her cheek. She swallowed roughly, mind racing as fast as the heart in her chest.

Was she not ready? Was that why she had shivered? Was it hesitance? Certainly, this was something new, and something she had only dreamed about but never thought could come to be. It was only natural to be nervous. There was no need to be, though, was there? No, she loved this man atop her; making her feel as she never had before. This was the man who loved her; adored her; wanted her to be happy. Everything he did from this moment on was solely for her pleasure, and he would never hurt her. Never.

Her courage returned, and she hooked an arm under his to grasp at his back, and reached with her other hand to grasp at his locks to pull him to her and kiss him hard. He returned it at once and pressed as close as he could. When she pulled away, he still waited; ever patient; ever perfect in all ways to her.

"I want _you_, Ezio. I trust you. I love you. I'm yours, and I want this," she told him, and he waited only a moment before he gave her a searing kiss.

No more was said, and with nothing more to hold them back, they, at last, gave into their passions.

**-O-**

Catherine let out a soft, pleasurable sigh as she woke in the middle of the night, the candles and incense having long since gone out, leaving the room nearly pitch black. She could still make out the firm, warm body next to her, though, sleeping just as soundly as she had. It was to be expected after a rather long bout of love-making. It had, undoubtedly, been the best, infinite moments of her life, and she felt her body quiver with excitement and anticipation at the thought of his touch and his tongue and his—well, cock.

She grinned stupidly as she turned towards him, giving him a quick kiss as she nestled back down. He stirred, making a groan-like sound as he stretched out and opened his eyes. He looked at her blearily at first, but then smiled and reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair so he could pull her close for a deep kiss. His hand then traveled down to her side, going back and forth over her hips; effectively nudging the sheets away to expose her fully to him again. His eyes moved with his hand, a pleased rumble coming from his chest.

She chuckled, "Sounds like someone is ready for round two."

"I think you mean _four_… and I'm always ready for more of you… but are you?" he mused, although he cheekily reached over and groped her rear. It got a brief laugh before she bit her lip thoughtfully, eyes flicking down to where his manhood was hiding under the sheet.

"Hmm… maybe… in a little bit… I'm… er… actually a little sore now that I think about it," she grumbled, finally noticing she did, in fact, feel _raw_ between her legs.

"Ah—forgive me. I may have been overzealous," Ezio snickered as he slipped his hands to the inside of her thighs, rubbing gently. Even in the dark, she knew he was waggling his brow. "Shall I help make it feel better?"

Catherine perked a brow, "Pretty sure what you're thinking will make it better will only make me unable to walk tomorrow morning."

"How is it you know me so well, my love?" he purred, but relented and instead brought his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him. He rubbed along her back while she stretched and rest her head on his chest. "You are alright, though? I _did_ try to be gentle…"

"Ezio, I'm fine, don't worry. Just... new to it... and we just need to get me used to it. Should be easy enough, right?"

A lustful glimmer appeared in his dark irises, "Indeed. But you should rest for now. There will be much more to come later."

"Sounds like a plan," Catherine smiled as she grew quiet, just looking into his eyes. She leaned up a moment later, reaching up with one hand to cup his cheek and rub her thumb along his scruff. God, she loved this man. Her chest was swollen with the feeling, and she knew, without doubt, she could never love another like this.

"What is it?" Ezio chuckled suddenly, brushing his own hand along her cheek and playing with locks of her hair.

"It's just… I love you… and I guess… I can't believe this is real. It _is _real, isn't it?" she inquired softly, earning another chuckle before he sat up, too. He kissed her deeply and left a trail along her neck, though stopped at her collar.

"I assure you, it's very real. You're mine, and I'm yours… and that will not change so long as I draw breath. You've ruined me, my love, and if I must make it even more clear, then I'll have to ask you to forgive me, because I'm going to put a ring onto your finger whether you like it or not."

"Ezio," Catherine huffed.

He smirked, "I don't see why you're hesitant, kitty-'Cat."

"It's just… I don't want to… move too fast, I guess."

"Hmm… well, I would give you something then—to ward off any… others," he rumbled, eyes roving her body.

She laughed, "You mean to make it so I can't tease you? Can't make you jealous?"

"_Exactly_. Now what to give you…"

"How about…" the redhead mused, her own eyes roving his firm form and landing on the two ornaments on his chest. He noticed and picked up the one with his sigil on it, but she shook her head. "No; that one is yours—always. It's your proof of being a good man, and I want you to wear it. Even during sex."

An amused grin crossed face, "I got too excited when I saw you naked before me, but if you _insist_… So you want… this one? My old one?"

"Yeah," she smiled, touching at the black string with white pendants. "It's the one you've always had—and I like it."

"Say no more," Ezio replied as he reached behind his neck, undid the tie, and had it around her neck a second later. He leaned back to admire it, able to see it in the dark as she touched at it tenderly. He let out a slow breath, "It's beautiful on you."

"And now you can relax—no one would dare flirt with me once they see this on my neck," she giggled, and then giggled some more when he wrapped his arms tight around her and nipped her neck.

"As it should be—you are _all mine_, kitty-'Cat," he purred into her neck before leaving a tender kiss to make up for his roughness.

"The same goes for you," she grinned, and then laughed lightly. "You know, it's funny; I always thought things would change a lot when this happened. But… it's… well, it's not very different at all."

"And why should it be? All that's different is that we're no longer hiding from one another. Did you… hope something would change?"

She tilted her head, "Hmm… not really. I love you as you are… but… I guess this does change things a little for us. I mean… we're lovers now."

"I suppose it _is_ changed a little, but it only means I will not let you deny me anymore. I will steal all the kisses I want, and I will make you lust for this always."

"Jesus Christ, you're terrible!" the redhead laughed, shaking her head. "I'll have to find a way to get back at you then. Find new ways to tease you…"

"Believe you me, you are a tease all by yourself, kitty-'Cat, and if this is all the change that's to come… then I welcome it."

"Same here. I'm more than happy to keep learning what you have to teach," she winked as she slid off his belly to lay against his side.

"Good, because I'm about to give you another lesson," he smirked, suddenly rolling so he was on top. He hiked one of her legs over his hip as he kissed her hard, leaving her half-laughing, half-breathless.

"Remember—I _am_ a little sore still," she giggled, running her fingers through his hair.

"Don't worry; I'll be gentle," he growled huskily, and there was nothing more to be said as he kissed her again, and started her on the path to ecstasy once more.

And all the while, if she had any doubts about things between them—about what might change—they were abated. No matter what happened or what came their way or whatever machinations the Templars threw at them, she knew so long as she had Ezio by her side, then it would be alright.

* * *

_And now I'm just rolling home  
Into my lover's arms  
This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you_

_That God blessed the broken road  
Ooh, ooh  
That led me straight to you_

* * *

**53 **– _End_

* * *

**Act II**

_End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Aaaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap. Of both these chapter trio and of Act II! Originally, Act II ended a bit further along, but this became a great spot. Also, the talk with Ghita went a looooooooooooot different. Catherine was actually going to learn some techniques... but Ghita's talk ended up being much, MUCH better. Either way, Ezio and Catherine are **very **happy with each other tee hee ;)_

_Oh, so Claudia's kids never got named, so I decided to do my little move there, hehe. Figured she'd do that, so why not? Ottavio is a good dad, too :'D So much fun to be had, and now there is a BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG TIME SKIP COMING UP. If you follow the timeline close you know Emilio doesn't die for a LONG time... so yeah. Get ready. No more time skip montages with random spurts through time. We're skipping straight over. :'D_

_Until next update!_

_P.S. Enjoy the lemon hint. That's all you get because fanfic doesn't like porn xD_


	55. Act III - How Far We've Come

**TMWolf: **_Lol think life is working against me. Had this almost done with AN stuff and I accidentally closed the browser. WHOOPS._

_But hey! Update time guys! Sorry I've been gone so long. I really should have updated sooner, but things have been a little hectic. Stressful, you could say, and the muse had been... lackluster. I just didn't feel like writing, but I managed to get the latest chapter done. No guarantees or any definitive time for next update, however. I had mid terms coming up, and I also have both research work and papers for my classes to write, so I don't know how things will go. I'll do my best to update when I can, though. Rest assured, I WILL finish this beast. I'm too invested and not a quitter, so I'm gunna finish it._

_For now, though, chapter 54... **PLEASE NOTE: ACT III IS FOUR YEARS LATER. ACT II WAS FOUR YEARS AGO. **I'm pretty much not going to be doing montage chapters anymore, so lots of time skipping going on now xD_

_As usual, how I write the canon is based upon my interpretation of it. _

_For reviews: thank-you guys sooooooooooooooooooo much for your kind words and concerns! I've had a good break, and hopefully I won't need as much time between the next update. I always love hearing what you have to say, be it critique, comment, question, or whatever! So please feel free to leave a review, and I'll be happy to answer :)_

**C0N1F1ENT:** _I'm so glad you're loving the story! And yep! I've had a decent break haha_

_**I am a duck:** __Technically this is way after the chapter you reviews, but I'm sure you'll see it eventually, ha ha. Anyways: Lord of the Rings, yes! An amazing story and soundtrack :p So glad you're loving it, and thank-you so much for your review! Your words mean a lot! xD_

**jojobamemes4:** _Hehehe I try my best to make them that way xD And don't worry-there will be plenty of bonding with their nephew! In fact, they spoil him-more than mama-bear would like ;) And I won't abandon you guys! Promise! Thanks so much for the luck-I need it, ha ha xD_

**Kise-cchi:** _I'm doing fine, thanks! :) Sorry but not sorry about working your heart? ID And, yes, poo on fanfic for cutting porno time, although I'd probably get silly with it, hehe. So glad you liked it-especially Ghita. That was a part I thoroughly enjoyed writing :) And good lord, little mini Catzio babies xD Ezio would have to keep his children from constantly flirting (you know they would take after dad). And oh, please. I'm barely over Mexican level of spicy xD But thank-you, he he he. As for younger Catzio reactions... Catherine totally embarrassed and in denial but totally turned on, and Ezio giving a thumbs-up, encouraging it, and teasing Catherine relentlessly xD Things definitely would have happened faster if they saw into the future, ha ha. and OMG XD NOT THAT KIND OF MARK. I MEAN, EZIO WOULD, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN LOLOLO _

**Laurel:** _Haha yay! Glad you love it! xD And, yep! Claudia had her baby... and, well, Ezio actually *was* kinda serious about proposing... but he'll respect his lady's wishes ;) As for Ottavio's reaction... mostly a f*ckin' finally and holding out his hand for his coins xD_

_Right, so that's it for those... for the song, it's by Matchbox 20: How Far We've Come. Fit just fine title-wise._

_Anyways, again: FOUR YEAR TIME SKIP! Get ready guys, and time to take down the Templars!_

* * *

**Act III**

_Guardian_

* * *

**54 **– _How Far We've Come_

* * *

**August 15, 1485**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

_Mom,_

_ I guess it's been a while, huh? I'm not even sure when the last letter I wrote was, and I'm sorry about that. I meant to write sooner, really, I did, but things have been… well, both a lot and not a lot has happened the past four years. I guess I'll start with how my work has gone—as an Assassin. I told you about it all, I know. _

_I work with Ezio, Mario, and the various guilds throughout the country to stop the Templars. Before, with the Pazzi, it had all gone pretty quickly. We essentially destroyed the family in maybe two years. But our work against Rodrigo and the Barbarigo men—everything in Venice… it's taking a long time. Ezio and I both know it's for the best. We have to work slow this time. We have no power base like we did here, in Monteriggioni, and the Thieves we've been working with were very weak when we first got there. Yes, I know, 'Thieves' makes us sound so bad, but they're good people. They're fighting for what's right. They just want freedom for the people; to save them from the oppression of the Templars. We've been helping them all this time, and, finally, after four years, they've become strong. We've weakened the Templars a lot, too, although Emilio still has control. But I think that's going to change soon. Ezio and I both can feel it, and when we were in Venice about a month ago, Antonio seemed bolder and more eager. I don't think it will be long before we kill our target. _

_ I know you worry about that kind of thing. Or, well, I think you would. I imagine you are while reading this, but… I'm stronger now. Even after I was hurt badly by the Clock. I, ah, guess I haven't told you about that, but the artifact did something to me—internally, I'm pretty sure. It made me weak and more prone to sickness for a few months, maybe even a year, but the more I trained and worked, I've gotten back to full health. Sometimes I have a spell here or there, but I'm definitely stronger for sure. Ezio's helped me with that, and with him I feel invincible sometimes. I know we're both ready, and that we'll make it out alive, so you don't need to worry. I mean, technically I will be dead by the time you read this, but not from trying to kill the Templars. So, y'know, don't worry. :)_

_ Speaking of Ezio… okay, try not to have a heart attack, but… well, you know how you always wanted me to have a boyfriend? Or something like that? You know what I mean. Anyways… Whelp. It's been over four years now since Ezio and I became lovers. Boyfriend and Girlfriend, although the Renaissance would only call us lovers. It's… God, it's been amazing, Mom. I never knew what love like this was, but it's the best thing in the world. Was this what you had with Dad? I know you had that issue with the affair when I was really little, but before all that, and even after you'd gotten through it all—is this the kind of love you felt? To be with someone who wants only the best for you? Someone who loves you for all you are? Someone who would do anything to protect you? Die for you? Love you no matter what? Someone you trust with your life? Someone you couldn't imagine your life without? Because that's how I feel with him, and he's said much the same. I can see it, too. The way he looks at me and when we kiss or hold each other. It's amazing, Mom, and I wish you could meet him. You'd love him. He's charming and a smart ass and so handsome. He's grown a proper beard now, and it's amazing! I really do love him for all he is, though, and he loves me, too._

_ You must wonder why we're not married yet, huh, ha ha? Well, you'd not be the only one. Pretty sure we've been asked that question every day of our lives for the last year now—maybe even two years ago. Truth is… I guess we just don't feel we need to have a ceremony or need to make a big deal out of it? I don't know. I certainly don't feel like being married would change anything. I know I'd never love anyone else more than him or want anyone else, and he's the same for me. We don't want anyone else, and, well, frankly, I count his necklace as a ring. He gave me the one he had from a kid, and I wear it always. It's as much a ring as the real thing, and you know I've never been one for dresses, and I'd definitely be forced into one for the wedding. HE'D love it, of course, the turd (Yes, I do still love him, but he can be such a butthead. That's kind of why, I guess, though, haha). But, yeah. That bit combined with all our work has just… I mean, we talked about it after people starting asking, but nothing's really come of it. We end up working or traveling, and we just don't have time unless we're here in the city, but even then we have work to do. The city is always expanding, and all. But… maybe someday. I guess it would be kind of nice to have it "official", even if we don't need it._

_ Hmm… I have to wonder what else you'd ask… I guess…I guess it would be about kids, huh? We've definitely thought about it. We really considered it after Claudia had another kid—another little boy to match her first. They named him Federico, after their late elder brother. It's fitting, and he'll no doubt live up to his namesake. Ezio's wanted his own son ever since his first nephew was born, although I was hesitant at first. Once I spent more time with Claudia's kids, though, I came around to the idea, so we started to try. But…. I, ah… well… after two years… there's been… well, nothing. We've essentially come to think I'm barren. I wouldn't have thought it considering how fertile our family has been. I mean, hell, you have three siblings, Dad had two, and I have a ton of cousins and what not, but it seems like I can't have any. I'm not sure why. Or, I guess I have an idea why maybe why, but… without present day medicine, I'll never find out. I can only assume that I'm barren. And…It… it hurt. A lot. More than I thought it would, and I know it hit Ezio hard, too. At one point I thought maybe it might hurt US, but… we've stuck it through. He's told me it's alright and I believe him. He convinced me in his own way, although I know he still wants his own. I know I want my own, too, and I hate knowing I can't give us that. Maybe we'll adopt one day, I don't know… but… for now... for now we'll focus on work. Besides, the Auditore name is going to continue on. See, Claudia's kept her family name—Ottavio, her husband, took the Auditore name. He says it's because it sounds better than his own (we have a game of making up last names for him since he's refused to tell us; it's fun)—more noble, he says—but I know it's because he did it, in part, for Ezio and Mario, and Claudia, too. He wants to let our family name carry on, and we're all thankful for it. So the Auditore name and bloodline remains strong, even if Ezio can't help carry it on._

_ Heh… I didn't actually mean for this letter to get to so long, but four years is a lot to work through, isn't it? I need to work on writing more to you. Again, I'm sorry it's been so long, and I'm always sorry I left you… but, please know I'm happy here. I've found love and all it entails, and even if what I do is dangerous, know I'm happy. I wish I could say I'm coming home one day like I used to—back when I was sure the Clock would bring me home, but after all these years… I think it won't take me back. I think the god-thing I saw underestimated things or just said it to encourage me. And, well… don't hate me, but if given the choice… I'm going to stay. I have a life here with Ezio and everyone, and I don't want to lose it. I love him, and everyone else. I love you, too, Mom, so… please… don't be mad and don't be sad—I may not be with you anymore, but I'm happy. So, so, so, happy. I hope you'll be able to be happy for me, and keep going on with your life—to find your own happiness, too. I love you so much, Mom. I miss you, too. _

Catherine paused in her scratching, eyes roving over the last few bits she had written. She pulled back some of her loose locks behind her ear as she set the quill down and leaned back in her chair. Her unbuttoned shirt—actually, it was Ezio's, but she'd stolen it when she'd gotten up—slipped some, but she left it be; content to lounge back lazily as she pondered. It hadn't taken her all that long to write everything, but her steam had died out some. Four years had gone by, and yet she could barely think of what all to write. One would think she could write an entire book, but she'd somehow summed up a life time in a few measly pages. It didn't seem right—didn't seem enough. She owed her mother more, but what was more was there to say? So much, yet so little had happened all those years.

The young woman chuckled softly, shaking her head some. _Four_ years. It was so many. Even longer still since she'd come to this world. That had been at least eight, maybe nine years? She'd come at just nineteen years old, and now she was twenty eight, although she was happy to say she never felt it. It was so strange, in a way. Briefly, she wondered what her mom would say if she suddenly appeared before her as she was; nine years older, her body bearing new scars, her skin a shade darker, her hair shorter—or was it longer? She couldn't remember, but she knew she was a bit taller, and her body had become more feminine over the years. She was certainly more toned than when she'd come as well, and she had to laugh lightly at how her mother might react to see her in her Assassin gear, too.

A deep sigh from behind made her head turn, and even with her candle light dim and flickering slightly, she could make out the shape of the man she loved turning in the sheets. His arm reached, brushing across the empty space of the bed where she should have been. His fingers clenched and she could see his face scrunch in confusion. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking behind his loosened locks, and a soft grumble came forth. Catherine chuckled, and his head popped up, at which point he finally found her. He chuckled in kind and sat up, looking to the windows, and then back to her.

He yawned, rubbing the back of his neck, "Are you alright, my love? It's still dark out…"

"Don't worry—I'm fine. I just… couldn't sleep, so I decided to write," she smiled, looking back to her paper.

"Hmm…," he began, staring for a moment before slipping from the sheets. Despite years of being lovers, she couldn't help ogling his naked form; taking in all the muscles—even more firm than before—and, of course, the other goods. He noticed her wandering eyes, and a chuckle escaped him as he came over, leaned down to give her a quick kiss, braced his arm on the table, and looked over the paper. He raised a curious brow, "In English? Who is it for?"

"My Mom. I haven't written in years," she sighed softly as she reached up, lightly drawing her fingers along his abdomen. He made a soft, pleased hum. "I started thinking about her lately and how I hadn't done this… just had to get it out."

"What did you write? Your English is… different from what I'm used to," he replied, and by his slight frown she knew he was pouting.

She snickered, "Just a summary of things—how the fight's going, about the city, about… well, _us_."

"Oh?" he smirked before suddenly taking his braced arm and hooking it beneath her legs. She laughed as she wrapped her arm around his neck to make it easier for him to slip his arm around her back, lift her up, plop himself down in the chair, and then settle her into his lap. He didn't waste time entrapping her in his arms while his head nestled against hers, being sure to teasingly brush his beard against her cheek—something she loved.

"Mmhmm," she giggled, lounging back against him while she took up her quill again. She didn't write more, though; just tapped it lightly on the parchment. "Told her how you're impossible and such a pain in the ass."

His smirk widened, "_Oh_?"

"Uh-huh. The worst. You're always so cheeky and pushing buttons and being annoying and bothersome and causing trouble and acting like a little shit—an adorable little shit, but a little shit nonetheless," she went on, tilting her head back to grin up at his dubious raised brow expression.

"Hmm… frankly, my dear, I think you're underselling me. I'm far worse than 'adorable little shit'."

"True, but I didn't want her to worry and make sure she'd love you, too, whenever she read it."

"I see, I see… so was there anything _good_ about me you said?"

"Good? Oh, no, no, no. There's absolutely nothing good about you," Catherine smirked, setting her quill down to reach up and stroke his beard. "You're just awful."

"Oh, yes, yes… Just the worst aren't I?" he purred, his hands starting to roam along her skin—just lightly touching so that she got shivers. Even after four years he could do that to her, and it excited her every single time. "I suppose I am… but, as I recall… you love every bit of it."

"And what makes you think that, hmm?" she purred as he brushed his beard along her cheek playfully.

"Well, there's the fact you're already getting wet for me—and I'm just barely touching you," he smirked, stealing a kiss as he groped her rear, which earned a small squeak from her. He laughed as he tugged her around, having her sit on his lap proper. "And, of course, there's the moaning, and screams of pleasure, and begging for more… oh, and then I've had you in my bed every night for the past four years."

"Well, I suppose that _is_ pretty hard evidence to refute," Catherine hummed as she arched into his hand that drew underneath her shirt, right along her spine. She, like-wise, played around with his torso, and happily tangled her fingers into his hair. "Too bad you'll never convince me to tell my mother."

"Is that a challenge?" he purred, a devious twinkle in his eyes. Her heart raced, knowing exactly where this was going. Four years, and she still wasn't tired of it—not of his cheekiness; not of his kisses; not of his touch; not of how he eased her mind and pushed all her worries away; not of the way he made her feel like so much more than she was. No, she loved this man more than anything that could ever exist or would exist, and she would never tire of it.

"Isn't it always? Although," she replied, tilting her head back towards her parchment, "I probably should finish the letter."

"Later," Ezio growled quickly, but softly as he leaned forward and nipped her neck.

"Tsk. So needy… you know, it'll only be a week or so before we head back to _Venezia_. You won't be able to do this as you like."

He rumbled huskily, "Then I guess we're not leaving this room until then."

"I suppose I can humor you—for tonight. But know I will finish that letter tomorrow—_without_ distractions," she grinned, stealing a kiss before wriggling his shirt off. He gave her an appreciative look over before groping her rear and standing up.

"I suppose I can show you mercy, but, as always… it will be near impossible—I can't help but want to devour you every time I see you," he chuckled as he made for the bed. They were both long ready before he even reached the sheets and laid her down, placing affectionate kisses and nips all along her skin.

"What can I say? I'm quite the temptation," she smirked right back, arching into his every touch. "Now stop teasing, you scoundrel."

"Ah, but I have a reputation with your mother to keep."

"You little shit," she laughed, and he laughed with her as he leaned forward and kissed her hard.

He smirked, "You love me for it."

She smirked right back, "Yes—yes, I do. Now shut up and fuck me."

"As you wish," he chuckled, and the teasing stopped.

**-O-**

**August 22, 1485**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"Everything you need is ready to go tomorrow," Claudia spoke as she shifted her youngest child, Federico, on her arm, the other, Giovanni, just four years old, clung to her dress. Both looked at the two Assassins with wide eyes. They knew them both well enough, but time away kept them from being as close as they could be. However, they only real reason they held back was for one being only a year, and the other fearing the wrath of his mother should he disobey her command to stay put and leave his Uncle and Aunt alone.

"Thank-you, Sister—you know we always appreciate the supplies. With any luck we won't have to stay long, but Antonio's letter seemed urgent," Ezio replied, adjusting his bracers as he did so. He was able to pause when Catherine's hands replaced his own, the young woman having learned his exact taste over the years. It was also easier if done with two hands, and gave him freedom to focus on the matriarch of the city.

"I managed to get a look at it myself—you think it's time?" she inquired, mindful of her young boys.

He nodded, "We think so. He mentioned the Guild is doing very well, and that our target seems a little on edge. Sort of. He's cocky, they said, but he's not been as bold—hasn't been as… oppressive, you could say."

"Well, that's a relief," the young woman mused as she again shifted her son, the little boy trying to grab at her hair piece. "Federico, no. Anyways… well, whenever it's done, do try and get someone who will be amiable to the merchants. We've gotten a few connections with them thanks to your work, but I'd like more—they're a good source of revenue, and it's an easier way to give you support, too. I don't like you two over there alone. Yes, yes, I know you have the Guild… but they're not mercenaries nor loyal to you like those here. I wish I could at least send Ottavio… but Mario needs him here. _I _need him here to help with these two."

"Claudia, don't worry—we're fine. The Guild is stronger than you think," Catherine chuckled as she finished with Ezio's gauntlet. She then turned so her back was to him, giving him access to her armor, which he adjusted here and there as she had done for him.

The young mother sighed deeply with exasperation and weariness, "Yes, yes… I know. Still, I worry about you both. We all do—especially Uncle Mario. He never shows it, but he worries. Why do you think he's gotten so gray already?"

"Isn't it because of those two running around, causing trouble?" Ezio snickered, tugging a strand tight and then patting her shoulder to signal he was done.

"No, they make my husband go gray—and _me_, you little devils," the young woman huffed, giving her two children looks. Her youngest was oblivious, but Giovanni giggled, burying his face into his mother's yellow gown. She sighed, shaking her head, but smiled at the two Assassins. "I love them, though. They all do… even if they're worse than you both."

"Why do you think _we_ like them so much?" Catherine smirked before crouching down. The little four-year old took it as all the calling he needed to launch from his mother's side and latch onto the redhead. She laughed as he giggled, standing up and swinging him about. He was heavier every time they came back, but she was still able to host him up. She grinned at the disapproving look his mother gave them. "Giovanni, you'll be good for your Mama and Papa and Great Uncle, right? You'll behave? Mind your manners? Mind your Grandma, too?"

"Mmmhmm," he nodded furiously but then made a giggle-shriek when Ezio playfully blew into his ear. He slapped at his uncle before hiding himself into Catherine's neck. "Nooo, doon't!"

"Be good and we'll bring you something back—how's that sound?" he hummed, and the young boy perked right up, eyes bright and mouth agape.

"Yessss! Yesss, yesss!"

"Do _not_ bring a sword back this time, though, or I will strangle the both of you!" Claudia snapped, eyes narrowed dangerously.

Catherine grinned, "Hey, that was _his _idea. I'll bring back a necklace or shoes or a shirt or something next time—how's that?"

"It will do. Now, Uncle Mario is waiting for you in the training grounds. He wanted to make sure you were good and ready for tomorrow to work on your more complex moves together."

"So he told us—when he came knocking _loudly_," Ezio mused, making a face.

"Oh, hush. The training is good for us," the redhead snickered while she put Giovanni down. She nudged him towards Claudia. "Go on, little one. Back to your mother."

"Yes, come Giovanni. It's time to begin your reading lessons for today, and then get your brother to his nap," she cooed, holding out her hand. Her little boy happily clung to it, though spared a moment to wave at his Uncle and Aunt, whom waved back. They watched the trio go, and once they were gone into the study, leaving the two Assassins, Catherine sighed. She watched the hall archway silently, a sad smile upon her face. It faltered when a familiar hand entwined its fingers with hers, and she looked back to find Ezio there. His other hand reached up to cup her cheek, which she leaned into. She knew the sadness in his eyes was a reflection of hers, and her chest throbbed as he pressed their foreheads together.

"Don't," he whispered softly.

"You know I can't help it. I hate not giving you that," she replied, closing her eyes. "Not giving you what you want."

"I want _you_. Only you. Child or no, I will always want you. And I will show it to you again, like I did before. I will do it again, and again, and again, and again—I will do it every time I must to show you I don't care if you can't bear me a son or even a daughter. I will love you always and need only you. Do you understand me, Catherine? I swore it the first night I made love to you and every night after, and I swear it again. I love you. Forever and always," he told her firmly, and every syllable made her heart swell with the love he professed for her. The fact she was barren would always come back, she knew, but so long as he was there to comfort her—to assure her it was alright, she knew it would be.

She managed a smile as she stole a small kiss, "I understand, Ezio."

"Good," he replied, and gave her a searing kiss. He smirked a moment later, "Although I wouldn't have mind taking you against the wall here."

She laughed, "Yeah, how about no. They already hear us every time we do it upstairs—they don't need to _see_ us, too."

"Well, I wouldn't mind it," Ezio snickered, kissing her again. "So. Ready to go?"

"Yeah. And… sorry—about getting down again. I try not to…"

"I know, and I will always be ready to push those thoughts away. You're sure you're ready?"

The redhead nodded, "I'm good to train. You know I always am. Might need a massage after, though—Mario's going to try and ruin us."

"I think I can do that," he chuckled, brushing his thumb along her cheek and then lowered it all the way down to her hand to squeeze it gently. "Come on then."

"Time to kick your ass," she smirked with a wink. He paused, raised a brow, and then laughed.

"There's my kitty-'Cat."

Catherine gave him another sincere smile, and then together they walked out, ready to face whatever their Uncle had for them—and for whatever the Templars would have for them in _Venezia_.

**-O-**

**September 7, 1485**

**Venezia, Italy**

"I do not miss the smell," Catherine mused as she and Ezio strolled through the bright streets of the city on the water. Her lover hummed in agreement, nose scrunched slightly as the scent invaded his nostrils, and no amount of shaking his head would get it out. It had been a few months since they were here—a rather long time away compared to before. It had been for the best, as all their "vacations" had been; their work had made them infamous once more, and apparently Emilio had sent his goons about to do a thorough search for the Assassins, but it was for naught, of course. They weren't there to find, and the Thieves would never be caught so easily again—especially not when the district supported them more. Now it was only really the more noble folk who snubbed them, although some did secretly support them. However, with Emilio watching like a hawk, discretion was needed, but a mask was easy to wear.

Whatever the case, their hard work over the past four years had paid off, and every vacation was well earned. _Venezia_ was, at least in one district, slowly becoming a better place. The people were less oppressed and did not fear selling their wares as much as they did. The tax, was, unfortunately still in place, but the guards were not as likely to come around and display their cruelty—or their swords. No; they were far more wary of doing such things for fear that a certain pair of Assassins might appear and slice their throats in retaliation. Personally, Catherine didn't like to be infamous with _fear_, but it was better than having no influence at all. At least a good chunk of the people knew they were allies, although some of the normal people _did _fear them, which she supposed was wise of them. The two of them had a power not many did. Or, rather, the redhead supposed _Antonio_ had the power.

Such was the way of being the leader of a Guild—possibly the only one situated in the city. Not that he hadn't earned it or wasn't worthy of it. Catherine considered the man to be extremely wise and a fairly intelligent tactician. He knew the best times when to strike and how to do it. He understood the value of discreetness and patience when going after a target. He knew sometimes it was better to run than to fight, and how to use it against the enemy. He was a man that could gain the trust of his peers and, most importantly, their loyalty. There was hardly a thief in the district that didn't look up to him or wasn't willing to die for the goal—the purpose—he'd given them. He had the ability to instill such things in others, and it was not a skill many had. It didn't help he was an almost perfect mix of benevolent and malevolent; he knew went to give mercy and kindness; when to cut ties—and throats.

For that, Catherine often wasn't sure whether or not to trust the man. Or, at least, she trusted his drive and that he wanted to achieve his goals. He wanted to free the district, but what about after? He only said he wished for people to be free—to be allowed what he wasn't as a child, and she believed he was sincere in that. Yet, she knew power could easily corrupt. Mario had told them so countless times over the years, and the Templars were the physical manifestation of such a notion. It wasn't as if he hadn't given them a reason to not trust him, though. At least, nothing beyond a vague, gut feeling he was hiding something. She didn't think anything terrible or that would put them in harm's way, but she thought there was something in how he had this knowing look about him when he talked of the Templars and Assassins. She swore Mario would sometimes look the same, or even the other Guild leaders, too.

Regardless, the redhead at least took solace knowing Antonio wasn't a bad man, and that he wasn't the sort to be unable to be set straight if need be. Rosa, certainly, wouldn't let him become a dictator. If anything, she would beat her father-figure down with a fierce verbal lashing, and then probably insist she and Ezio pay her for doing their job. Such was the woman they'd come to learn as they worked with her, and Catherine was unbelievably happy to have her as an ally. In part, because she was incredibly talented and skills as both a free runner and fighter, but it was also nice having another woman running the streets like she did. There were maybe one or two others, but none so well known as Rosa.

"Lost in thought again, are we?" the familiar voice of her lover mused loudly—just as she felt a hand grope her rear. She squeaked despite the young man essentially doing the act almost daily, and flushed when he laughed.

"Don't do it in _public_," she huffed, glancing around. Thankfully only a few saw or even vaguely noticed.

He smirked under his hood, "Oh come now—I've done it in public plenty of times. Besides, how else am I to show claim in front of the other men?"

"Well, kissing works just as well, and the other times were back home—around friends and family. These are strangers."

"But we know that merchant—he sells us cloth. And that one sweet bread. That one repairs our weapons. And that one—," Ezio snickered, pointing out each and every stand until the redhead smacked his hand away.

"Oh, shut up, or you're sleeping downstairs tonight."

"Uh-huh," he purred, knowing full well that threat would never happen, and _she_ knew it, too. No matter how cheeky or an ass he was, she couldn't resist him, and they would either make love well into the evening, or just cuddle. Either way, he would be in the bed with her. Neither would have it any other way, of course.

"Right, well, let's hurry up and get to the house so we can get our things down and finally speak with Antonio. The messenger said he was eager to meet with us," she mused, gesturing towards the turn towards the section of the district where the Thieves—and they—slept.

"Hopefully it really is the signal to strike. We've had to spend so much time building things against Emilio… I worry what the Spaniard's been planning."

"He hasn't been spotted here the whole time."

"I know, but I don't doubt he's been doing some kind of work here. I just wish we knew what."

"We will—in time. First we have to get rid of Emilio and replace him with our own people. Then we can finally ensure a foothold here. We might even draw him out if he knows we're working to stop them here," Catherine mused as they turned a corner, but then ducked out of the way when a platoon of guards came by.

Ezio stayed somewhat in front of her, eyes watching as he replied, "I don't know if that's a good thing or not, though. If he starts his plan early… there may be trouble."

"We'll find a way to deal with whatever happens," the redhead spoke softly, reaching over to grasp his hand and squeeze gently. "We always do."

He looked back at her, smiling a little, "We do. But you know I like to worry."

"No, _I _like to worry. I'm just finally rubbing off on you… in the metaphorical way, anyways."

"Did you just make a dirty joke? A _terrible_ dirty joke?"

She grinned, "Maybe."

"God help us," Ezio laughed, shaking his head, and then tugged on her hand. "Alright, come on, they've passed."

She snickered as she followed, and waited a moment before smirking, "By the way, I know you loved that joke."

He paused before he replied with his own smirk, "I did."

The redhead just laughed, and they continued on the rest of the way fairly quietly. There wasn't much more to be said, and there wasn't anything new to concern them. At most they stopped to briefly chat with some thieves they recognized and had worked with more than once, but otherwise they went unmolested. It wasn't much farther to the main quarters, and while Antonio's door was in sight, they diverted to the left to open the door to their personal house, which they'd slowly tailored to their taste over the years.

It was far more polished, and any tattered parts had long since been repaired. The furniture was fixed or new, and it was not unlike some of the rooms in the _Villa_. Their bedroom had been refitted to be was Ezio's in the tower, and it was to there they placed their things. Normally, they would have gladly collapsed onto it and taken a nap, but they had been summoned ahead of time and so returned down to the courtyard and approached the wooden entrance to Antonio's meeting room. It was Ugo who opened it, his mug as same as it ever was, and still wearing the usual unkempt clothing.

"Ah, you've made it. It's about time," he smirked, motioning them in. Behind him, both the leader of the Thieves and Rosa stood beside the model of the city. Unlike four years ago, however, there were far more little figurines of Thieves all about the city rather than soldiers. It was a testament to their hard work, and it was a good sight to see.

"Indeed. For a minute there we almost worried," Rosa chuckled with a wink.

"Worried? About us?"

"No—about having to open the door and find you both mid—."

"_Ha ha ha_, yeah no, we weren't going to do that. Happened once—don't need it to happen again, thanks," Catherine butt in, giving the woman thief a quick look. She was given but a snicker in kind, which was a lot better than the full-blown laughter when it had happened about a year ago and left the redhead redder than a tomato. Thieves and their damn light feet—and light knocking combined with lack of manners, apparently.

"Well, we still can if you really want us to, Rosa," Ezio mused, brow waggling.

The woman shook her head, "No thank-you. The one time was enough, and I think Catherine agrees."

"Indeed," Antonio spoke up, a wry look about him, and the others soon grew somber. Taking that as his cue, he motioned to the model. "I am glad you made it back safely, although I suppose that is not something to truly worry about anymore thanks to your work."

The young man shrugged, "We did have to avoid a few guards."

"Better than a whole armada like it used to be," Ugo hummed as he joined them, eyes glancing over the diagram.

The Thief leader nodded, "Certainly. More importantly, though—Emilio is scared. He may not seem like it, but he has been slowly drawing in; barricading himself, if you will, within the _Palazzo_. He has been posting more archers, pulling patrols closer. He knows he is weak, and we are almost back at full strength. I believe it will only be a few more days, and then it will be time to strike."

"Do you have a plan already?" Catherine inquired, leaning forward on the table.

"Of sorts… it is still in the works as we continue to gather the strength we need."

"But we do have some things for you both to do to help us get there all the faster," Rosa added, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Some guards were getting a little rowdy—it would do the people good if a pair of mysterious Assassins were to do something about it."

"Well, I hope you're able to find such mysterious characters," Ezio smirked, exchanging a look with the redhead, whom smirked right back.

"We haven't heard anything back from some groups in the western docks for a day or two as well. Some of my boys might be in trouble," Ugo rumbled a bit uneasily, folding his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't mind help looking into it, and you two can get where we can't."

"Got it. We'll see about 'asking' around," Catherine hummed, peering over at the location.

"Excellent. As always I am grateful for your help in this. We would never have gotten this far without you both. Feel free to rest as you need for these tasks. I will be sure to have Fontina prepare fresh meals for you," Antonio smiled.

Ezio nodded, "That would be wonderful. We could use some rest, but we should be able to start by nightfall. Use the dark as cover."

"We'll keep tabs on the guards—and keep an ear out for the men. With any luck we'll have an update for you by then," Rosa replied. "In the meantime, rest up… and do try to not get to loud, will you? Some of us are actually resting when we say resting."

"Har har har," Catherine snorted, giving the woman yet another look. She did love the jokes, though. The woman-thief was a good friend, and the grins they shared a second later showed it. "Don't worry—I'll make sure he stays tame. Truth be told, we _do_ actually sleep after the boat ride here."

"If you say so," the thief winked, earning a laugh in kind.

"Alright, alright we best get going then—before Antonio gets frustrated with his children fooling around and making jokes," Ezio snickered as he wrapped an arm around Catherine's waist.

The thief leader chuckled, "It may come as a surprise, but I am quite used to this kind of banter."

"Isn't that right, Ugo?" Rosa purred, casting a glance the thief's way. He made a somewhat uncomfortable face—the kind someone made when trying to hide a secret. Only, the redhead was already well aware of their relationship. It had blossomed quite nicely, and the two made a good couple. They reminded Catherine of her and Ezio, in a way.

"Right. Well, we best get started on resting up. We'll get with ya'll once we're ready," the redhead chuckled, slipping out of her lover's grip and heading for the door.

"Sleep well, my friends. You will not get much of it when we celebrate our victory," Antonio spoke sincerely, and Catherine believed him.

They would think on it later, though; for now they needed that nap they'd spoken of. And with but a quick stroll back to their house, a quick stripping of clothing and slipping beneath the sheets, and they were sound asleep, although they never let the thought of the coming battle to come get too far from their mind.

Soon—very soon, Emilio Barbarigo would die.

* * *

**54 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And that's a wrap-for this chapter! As I said, four years have gone by, so I figured a letter to Mom would be the perfect way for Catherine to tell us what all happened. To sum it up, though..._

_Catherine and Ezio have tried, but are, apparently, unable to have children. And they've tried-a _lot. _They have come to terms with the fact, and may consider adoption instead._

_Claudia had a second child, whom they named Federico. _

_Thieves are much stronger. Templars weaker._

_Catherine and Ezio are, for lack of better word, madly in love._

_Catherine no longer desires to return home (for sure)._

_The Clock may have done more than she thought four years ago._

_And that's the big, main points in the letter. So a lot, but not a lot has happened. Plenty more stuff to come, so be ready, folks! First, though, time to kill a Barbarigo :p Until next update!_


	56. The King And All of His Men

**TMWolf: **_Woof! That was one hell of a break, but I needed it. Things got kinda hectic towards the end there of my school semester and then the road trip now even a few days later to my grandparents was even CRAZIER. I can't even begin to describe everything that happened, but it was insane. But I'm good to write again, and it's going well. Helps I've been playing the remastered Ezio trilogy (my man looking good in HD ;D) and saw the AC movie which was fantastic! Thought it stuck true to the elements of the game, albeit altered to fit a movie setting. _

_As usual, how I write canon is based off my interpretation of canonical events._

_Anyways, won't hold you here long, so time to reply to some reviews! Thank-you so much for all of them! I always love reading what ya'll have to say or answer any questions so please feel free to drop me any comments/questions/critiques/etc.! :D_

**_CONF1DENT: _**_Hehe, well, as for the barren bit you'll have to keep reading to see what all happens tee hee. And it is pretty heart breaking for them both... but Ezio loves her all the same. It won't change how he feels. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, though, and that you liked the letter format haha. I thought it was the best way to sum everything up xD_

**_JKR:_**_ Sorry for the delay! I've update now, though! xD_

**_Kise-cchi: _**_Yep! I'm still alive, ha ha. Just had been a little busy. And as for your guesses... well, you'll see ;) Lots of stuff is going to start happening as we approach the end of the story, so buckle up! xD_

_I _think _that's all the ones that need answering. Sorry if I missed any guest reviews! It's been a while so forgive me! xD_

_This chapter's song is by Wolfgang - The King And All of His Men. Not really fitting lyric-wise, but I thought the title was fitting for things._

_Anyways, time to put Emilio to rest! :'D_

* * *

**55 **– _The King And All of His Men_

* * *

**September 9, 1485**

**Venezia, Italy**

"So, you were successful?" Antonio inquired, finally looking up from his diorama of the city to regard the two Assassins that had just barely paused front of him. His eyes flicked to the piece of bloodied cloth in Ezio's outstretched hand, and, after a pause, took it. He chuckled, "And to think I doubted for even a second."

"You _doubted_ us?" Ezio smirked, folding his arms over his chest with a playful brow raise.

"Jeez, so much for your so called confidence in us," Catherine added, settling her hands on her hips as she, too, raised a brow.

The thief laughed, lifting a hand in surrender, "I jest, I jest! I have never doubted either of you from the beginning. You both have only proven yourselves time and time again. And, like all those times, I thank-you for your work. With this last mission… we are ready to strike."

Both Assassins' jovial nature gave way to surprise as they exchanged looks with one another and then returned their focus to the leader of the Venetian Thieves Guild. The lithe man smiled with a nod before setting the cloth on the table and focusing on the model of the city once more. He reached out, grasping a red painted statue that represented the enemy, setting it aside, and then replacing it with a statue of their own. With its addition, there was now perhaps only five enemy units left, with ten of their own in place. Of course, it wasn't wholly accurate in that it was only a general model, but the notion was there.

They were winning.

They were stronger.

They were ready.

"What's the plan?" Catherine inquired, stepping forward to lean on the table, eyes focused on the model.

"It is to happen tomorrow night," the thief replied, attention flicking down the table, too.

Ezio frowned slightly as he, too, stepped closer, "So soon?"

"Your skepticism is not unfounded. I would question so quick a move myself, but while you have done your work, so, too, have I done mine," Antonio grinned, almost fox-like. "I have positioned my thieves, as you see, and they are where they need be. All that remains is removing the final obstacle: Emilio's remaining men to strike at the man himself."

"You mean the main guards around the _Palazzo_?" the Auditore mused.

"No, Emilio has posted new archers recently. My men have marked their exact locations for you, and given notes of their patrol routes. I need you to kill them, but you must do so quietly. We do not want their absence to go unnoticed."

"They'll have to report in eventually—_that _won't go unnoticed… so you'll have your men replace them once they're gone then?" Catherine interjected as she stood up straight once more, folded one arm across her waist while her other hand tapped her chin thoughtfully.

Antonio nodded, "Exactly. As each patrol falls, my men will replace them."

The young man looked to the thief, "What of the other guards then?"

"When you have finished with the archers, we will regroup in front of this building here," the leader of the thieves responded, gesturing to a building they knew very well, "and discuss the next steps."

Both assassins glanced to one another, but it was only once the redhead nodded that her companion returned his gaze to Antonio.

"Not a problem. We'll take care of the archer and return to you."

"Tomorrow night."

Ezio chuckled, "Yes. Tomorrow night. Don't worry—Catherine won't let me mix it up."

"Always do have trouble keeping your days and nights right," the young woman mused wryly before turning to Antonio, whom approached them from around the table.

"See to you it both rest well tonight and tomorrow. I will have no work for you, so use the time wisely. If you have need of the blacksmith or supplies, let me know at once. I can have all the items procured at a moment's notice."

"We could use a few smoke bombs—and our gear could use some repairs, too. Some of your buckles are getting worn. Mine, too," the redhead replied, tugging at one of the straps going over Ezio's chest.

"Very well. I will have your things taken tonight and returned by midday. Just have it all prepared and I will see to the rest. Fontina will have a bath and hot meal ready for you as well."

"There is no need to do so much, Antonio; we are quite capable of managing it ourselves," the young Assassin laughed, but the thief only shrugged in reply.

"It is the least I can do for all you have done. And, though you do not know it, the work you do here is helping more than you know. You both are the start of something far greater than all of us. You may not see it now, but soon… soon, you will," Antionio spoke, and his eyes seem to go far beyond them and the walls of the room—his mind even further. Catherine could only dare guess at what he was seeing, and it pricked at the questions she kept buried away. Like all those other times she kept it there—for now.

"And we'll do all we can to make sure we see it," she said instead, holding out her arm. The thief grinned and took it firmly; Ezio's too.

"Well said. Now, go on—eat, rest, and do as you need. You are free until it is time. I will send one of my men to let you know when to head out."

The young man nodded, "Understood. We will be ready."

They left the thief's abode then, and returned to their own. They slipped into their casual clothes, and placed what they needed fixed or repaired into various satchels relating to the item. They gave them to the thief who came about an hour later, some to go to Fontina for knitting clothes, others to a blacksmith, and an empty one for supplies with a note on what to get. They were given a warm meal in return which they enjoyed, but otherwise they were left be. They were fine with that, though, and quite content to make good on the privacy. Granted, they did that about any chance they got, and Catherine was only occasionally shocked now neither tired of the other when it came to sex. It was amazing every time, though, and more than satisfying, leaving both tired and lounging peacefully afterwards as the night deepened.

However, Catherine's peace was disturbed when she woke after her nap, and thoughts and questions plagued her mind. Normally, she would have woken her lover for another round or just peaceful lounging, but instead she remained quiet. She could feel Ezio's warm breath on her neck as he spooned her, arm draped over the naked flesh of her waist, the sheets covering the rest. His other arm was settled under her neck, hand tangled slightly in her red locks. She reached and entwined her fingers through those of the arm on her waist, and let out a soft, slow breath. It shouldn't have bothered her—not when the man she loved had her encompassed in his warmth and after he'd brought her to the farthest reaches of ecstasy only an hour or two ago. Yet, the thoughts pervaded the forefront of her mind, and it gnawed at her—a fine mixture of curiosity, uncertainty, and a hint of guilt.

They paused, though, when the arm around her body tightened, pressing her back firmly against her lover's chest. His other arm shifted, nudging her shoulder up so it could slide to meet the other. She shifted, turning to face him more, and chuckled when he placed gentle kisses onto her neck and collar.

"You didn't wake me? Don't want another go?" he asked at a low purr-like growl. He grinned wickedly, but there was a hint of concern—had he not performed to her liking? He always strived to fully satisfy her, just as she did for him, and if he did not, he made sure to make up later. He was so good to her like that; always trying to show his love and that he would never want her less for anything.

Catherine smiled softly, bringing her hand up to caress his face, thick and scraggily with the beard he'd grown. It made him so handsome and rugged, and it fit his long, thick locks that had splayed out while he slept. His eyes softened as he waited for her answer, although she knew he wasn't worried about being unsatisfactory now. She would have told him—she always had before if she didn't like something or what she did like, so she knew he knew her silence meant something else. After a while she sighed, letting her head fall back. Ezio shifted again, lounging more on his side to watch her carefully; ever diligent.

"Sorry, it's… something's been on my mind lately—and our talk with Antonio earlier brought it up again," she told him at last.

He chuckled, "Ah, well, that's much better than what I was thinking."

"Let me guess: worried I'd found a new lover you had to scare off again? Because, I told you, Rosa put that one guy up to it. You didn't have to just about _scar him for life_. Figuratively and _literally_."

"I was defending my claim," Ezio growled, biting her neck lightly. She gave him a light smack in return, rolling her eyes as he laid out on top of her some. He drew a hand along her body, gentle and soothing. His expression softened as he looked her in the eyes again. "What troubles you, my love?"

"It's… well, it's… a little… It's more like… I feel like… Antonio's hiding something from us," Catherine rumbled, bringing her arm around his neck to play with his hair. She saw his frown in the dark and quickly shook her head. "Nothing bad. Not like that. Just… he's not telling us something—_about_ us. I think that's what I mean. I'm not sure, but I feel like he knows something about us—about what we do. About us being Assassins, or something."

"What brought this on?"

"Um… it's just… some of the things he said—like about what we're doing being for something far greater. I don't think it's just his dream of a free _Venezia_. I think it's more, and… well, I don't think he's the only one."

Ezio sat up fully, eyes narrowed, "What do you mean? Who?"

Catherine bit her lip as she, too, sat up, and couldn't meet his eyes, "Mario."

"Uncle?"

"Again, I don't think it's something that would hurt us—especially if Mario is involved, but… I've seen him writing to the Guild leaders."

"Which is normal—he is leader of the Mercenary Guild," Ezio mused, humming in his pause before he went on. "You've seen something odd?"

"Just… he was… secretive about some. I saw him hiding ones we hadn't read, and he never minded and even encouraged us to read them to keep updated. So… well, when he wasn't around I… may have read one of them."

Her lover raised a brow, "Unusual for you. What did you find?"

"I'm not sure. They were writing about something I didn't fully get. There was something about, um… about the arrival of someone to a place. None of them seemed to fully know it, either, but there's definitely something about someone arriving somewhere or something. I think, maybe, they know who it is, but they're not sure—they're waiting for them to show at a certain time and place. But… it involved us. They mentioned us being the key—to something greater."

"…like what Antonio mentioned. That's… quite the coincidence," Ezio mused, lifting a knee to brace his elbow on it and rub his jaw.

"Isn't it? Again, I don't think it's anything dangerous, but… they're… withholding something from us. I don't want to think it's to hinder us, but I don't really like being kept in the dark either," Catherine half-groaned, half-sighed as she sat up to lean against him, head on his shoulder. He had his arm around her waist, pulling him to her fully at once. "Sorry; I shouldn't let it bug me so much, but…"

"No, no; it's a valid concern—or at least a valid question. I don't think it's dangerous, either, now that I take things into consideration. Antonio is an ally—my Vision tells me that much, and it has yet to be wrong. And Mario, La Volpe, and Paola are all good allies—especially Uncle. I think we do not need to be worried, and there is no reason to mistrust them. But… I think it's something we can look into; as a side work. It's nothing of vital importance, and our work against the Templars comes first, but… we can at least keep it in mind."

"Geez, you're making sense, what is this?" Catherine chuckled, and Ezio made a huff-like sound—as if insulted. "Oh, don't pout. You know I'm teasing. You're right, though; we shouldn't worry, but… we shouldn't let it slide, either. Mario wouldn't keep us out of the know without good reason, but it seems important, too, and I think we should try and learn about it as much as we can."

"Sounds like a plan… now, does that set your mind at ease?" he inquired softly, kissing her brow.

She chuckled, "Yeah—a little. I'll be able to really put my curiosity to rest when we find out, but it will do for now."

"Just be at ease knowing they are our allies, and even if Antonio dared turn on us… I would never let them hurt you."

"Not before I didn't let them hurt you first."

"Dammit, woman," the young man growled softly, suddenly spinning to pin her beneath him, arms above her head. She giggled playfully as he pouted. "Can't you let me be a proper man for once and defend you?"

"Oh, please. You love when I poke and prod at you," she smirked right back, drawing her leg along his. She felt him shift; knew it was getting him aroused. It always did.

"As I recall, you like when I poke you more—but I don't mean with words," he rumbled right back, the lust filtering in his eyes. God, it was so easy to get him ready, and she enjoyed finding all kinds of new ways. That, and it was the best way to push the thoughts that plagued her away.

"You know me so well. Just make it one more round, though—we have to be rested for tomorrow night," Catherine chuckled as she lifted her hips to meet his, legs hooking around his waist.

He groaned, "You ask the impossible when you do that. But you know that, don't you?"

She stuck out her tongue, "Yep. Now get to poking, lover boy. We'll probably be too tired after the mission otherwise."

"As you wish," Ezio chuckled before releasing her arms, kissing her roughly, and giving in to her demands.

**-O-**

**September 9, 1485**

**Venezia, Italy**

Not all the archers were on the _Palazzo_. At least half were on the outskirts, watching the rooftops in the darkness of the night. They only had the torch light beside them to see, and Catherine doubted they had tuned their eyes like she and Ezio had. She _highly_ doubted any of them had the Vision, either. In fact, she had come to realize very few had the Vision, or even if they did, it was nothing like her lover's. His was a special gift, and despite all her training and experience she still wished she had it, too. Her skills were enough, though. She could make the two men out on the dark tiles and the dimly lit wood of the scaffold. They, however, could not see her up above, crouched on the edge of the tower's window sill. Her clothing practically melded into the shadows with its dark colors, and although it was fairly quiet out, her hidden blade extended silently.

They never knew what hit them.

They barely mustered a muffled scream as she struck them down efficiently with quick strikes to the neck. They dropped, left in a pool of their own bloods, and she went onwards. Ezio had gone further along, figuring it better to split up and work back towards the center. She didn't doubt he was already on his side working—there was no denying he was an amazing Assassin and warrior—so she turned her focus on the archers on the roofs across the alley. She briefly noted the moon's light was peeking through the clouds, which would help the enemy. She knew to move quickly, and took a running leap across the gap. The tiles rang out beneath her heel, catching the archer's attention, but it was turned to silent shock as a throwing knife found its way into his collar. A shaking hand came up to touch it, eyes wide and given a full view of her cloaked face coming upon him. He gasped when her hidden blade struck his stomach, and then gurgled when she tore the throwing knife free. He crumpled, and she moved on with an unspoken "rest in peace".

Catherine kept moving. A third target was just beyond, and she focused on him. His back was to her, and she knew from notes he went back and forth along the ridge line. He had turned, yet to see her, so she darted forth. She leaped the gap, and was nearly upon him—only to have a figure suddenly leap upon the man, force him to the ground, and shove his hidden blade into the archer's back. The redhead drew short, put her hands on her hip, and huffed.

"I had him, you jerk."

"Don't pout—I'll let you have Emilio. How's that?" he smirked as he came over and stole a kiss. "Come on—time to meet Antonio for the next part."

"If you take Emilio anyways, you're not getting sex for a week," she countered, and he made a sound of mock-hurt. Oh, she wouldn't last that long, but she'd say it anyways. Both knew it, too, and shared grins before taking off across the roof tops. The building was not far at all—in fact, it was right by the same tower she'd started from. It was hidden from the _Palazzo_'s plain sight, but not too far away. The two Assassins leaped their way to the best spot down, using footholds in the broken bricks and metal landings and grates. They dropped into the opening—right into the view of Antonio, Rosa, and Ugo. They trotted over quickly, and all three regarded them warmly, although it was the leader whom spoke.

"Well done, both of you! Everything is going according to plan. As we speak, my men are replacing the archers you have removed. The way to the _Palazzo_ is clear now."

"But not the building itself. Emilio's guards still patrol its border," Ezio replied, and Ugo suddenly grasped his shoulder.

"Use my men. They can distract the guards—save you from having to fight."

Rosa stepped closer, looking to them both, "And when it comes time to storm the place, remember what I've taught you!"

"Take care, Ezio, Catherine. Would that I grant you more than words, but time is of the essence," Antonio spoke again, his face stern and somber.

"Don't worry—we understand. We won't fail you," the redhead replied, nodding firmly.

"Then we await word of your success."

"I'll be sure to bring the good wine to the after party—you'll get to see Ugo drunk at last," Rosa spoke up just as they turned to leave, much to the young thief's chagrin.

"Hey!" he grumbled.

Catherine smirked, "I look forward to that."

"Indeed. I heard he has a marvelous dance," Ezio chuckled for a moment, then placed a hand on the young woman's back, and they were off once more. They found Ugo's men almost instantly, a small band waiting innocently. A quick whistle and their heads shot up. A small hand gestured and they followed the two Assassins, although at a pace that would not seem suspicious. They didn't have to go far to reach the nearest _Palazzo_ entrance, though, and the squad of four swordsman and one brute came into view. Catherine pointed, the thieves nodded, and the distraction went underway. They ran into the guards, throwing insults and slurs, and stealing coins. Enraged, the guards gave chase, and left the way clear. More shouts came from further inward, and in the dark the redhead could just barely make out more guards racing after their allies.

Good. Less to deal with.

"Go," Ezio urged softly, touching her back again. She nodded and went at a dead sprint. She raced for the dimly lit windows, shot up them to the ledge above. Just as Rosa had told her, she recalled the training they'd done over the years—all the countless hours honing their jumping abilities and flexibility. It all came to fruition as she passed the seemingly impossible leap, grasped the edge, and continued upwards. Once she might have worried if she could muster the strength to climb so much and move around without proper places to rest, but she'd become stronger over the past four years despite her "incident" with the Clock. As such, she made it to the roof and crouched beside a chimney stack as she waited for Ezio, whom placed his fingertips on her arm to let her know he was right beside her. His other arm moved, catching her attention, and he brought a finger to his lips for a few seconds before pointing to the opposite edge of the _Palazzo_. Catherine peered closer, trying to see what he saw.

There.

A figure in black, and another in lighter clothes beside him, barely illuminated by the torch lights. In the stillness of the night, she could just make out what they were saying.

"Your little house of cards is crumbling, Emilio…" the darker-cloaked one spoke—a man she didn't recognize. Another Templar, she reckoned. He had to be, to be able to call the Barbarigo by first name so casually. That, and the other man—their target—was a Templar.

Emilio shrugged, "A minor setback. It will be dealt with. This poor fool, Antonio, and his thieves—."

The other man jabbed a finger at his comrade, "Nevermind them! It is the Assassins you should be worried about!"

"Why? Are… Are they back in _Venezia_?" their target inquired, voice shaky.

"They have been here for weeks! How could you be so blind?" the other replied harshly, and Catherine couldn't help a sinking feeling forming in her gut. Emilio hadn't noticed their presence, but this unknown man had. They were always so careful, yet their work hadn't gone unnoticed. They weren't as incognito as she thought, or the Templars knew in some other way.

She didn't like it.

She liked the new influx of heavily armed guards at the lower level less.

Emilio huffed, "Unlike you, I have been busy! Someone had to provide the weapons to our brothers in _Firenze_, and also keep the rabble under a tight grip here!"

"Yes… And we all saw what good that has done—and _did_. Four years should have been plenty of time to recover your coin."

"Enough with the barbs! What is it you want, Carlo?"

Carlo. Just a first name, but it was something. Catherine imagined Antonio would know, but she had to put her questions aside as Ezio grasped her forearm. She glanced back, but then followed his gaze to their left where a guard walked nearby. Her body tensed, ready to strike, but her fellow Assassin bade her stay as he slunk along. She waited, knowing he would take care of it, and instead listened more.

"Master has called a meeting. Three days from now at _Santo Stefano_," the "Carlo" man stated.

"Very well. I will be there."

The location name was familiar, but her main focus was on the "Master" bit. It was Rodrigo. He was coming—here. He would be in their grasp. Potentially. Hopefully. Still, he was coming _here_. It had to mean something. Templar plans always moved when Rodrigo appeared. Things would no longer be easy—that, Catherine was sure of.

"Assuming you still live," Carlo mused, and at the same time Ezio returned and motioned for her to follow. She did so, though kept an ear on their targets. They were heading to the bottom floor—to the exit on the canal. They needed to move quickly now, lest he escape. As they began to get closer, the new Templar went on. "If you want my advice, I would find a less conspicuous place to wait. _Seta _is a target now."

"_Seta _is a fortress!" Emilio scoffed.

"If you say so…" his companion rumbled, obviously not convinced. "Goodbye, Emilio."

Catherine and Ezio reached the ledge above where the two Templars were, having avoided notice by the other guards. The torchlight was too far to reveal them unless the men got too close, but they still peered cautiously over the edge. Despite their jabs, the two Templars grasped one another's shoulders in a form of kinship, and then Carlo turned and left through the exit to the canal. He stepped onto a gondola, which was then rowed away, leaving Emilio alone in the archway. He turned towards the open area of the _Palazzo_ and ground his teeth together.

"Fuck! What if he is right?" the old man hissed, shaking his head. It shot up a second later as he pointed to some guards. "You! Call for my boat. It should be close. When it arrives, load these crates and prepare to sail. I will be right back."

"_We need to get him before he leaves," _Ezio whispered, grimacing as the target moved further into the compound—just out of sight, although they could still hear him. He was mumbling about finding a safe place to hide until the meeting, and how they would deal with the two of them—the Assassins—after. The two of them didn't have the best way to get him, but they could go round about. The man made a final note, of which he seemed to, at last, piece together their connection with Antonio, but it was too late. He would die tonight. First, though, they climbed up to the higher balcony. There, Ezio hopped over, signaled for her to stop, and then quickly took care of a nearby guard.

Catherine pulled herself over, too, and scurried to the nearby window. She made out Emilio walking casually up the stairs. A quick glance showed her a jump they could make, although it could get noisy. There was moonlight, but the clouds were moving in its way again, and soon the darkness would be thick.

"_Ready_?" she asked softly as her fellow Assassin came up beside her. He nodded, and they took the plunge. It was an awkward jump, but they made it with not too much noise—or, rather, Emilio was too caught up in his muttering and thoughts to hear them slip over the rail. They converged, and it was Ezio who made the leap, blade extended, and took the target down on the stairs. The redhead kept close, hand on a smoke bomb and throwing knife if need be.

"Do not be afraid," her companion spoke softly, but the target shook his head.

"I feel no fear, Assassin… only regret. I sought unity. Stability. Order."

"It came at too great a cost, though—you oppressed the very people you wanted to unite," Catherine replied, glancing down.

His head tilted, looking to her, "Progress demands sacrifice."

The last of his life left him then, and his body went slack. Ezio sighed as he laid his down and used two fingers to close his eyes.

"We take no joy in this, but there is no other way. Rest in peace."

"Ezio—!" Catherine hissed as a scout came from the top of the stairs and spotted them. He shouted and drew his blade, rushing towards them. She leapt forward to meet him, easily dodging his blade and striking him down.

"Quickly—into the courtyard!" the young man shouted, taking a running leap through the window. The redhead followed in suit, rolling as she landed and rolled to her feet to waylay the blow. She pivoted on her heel to follow after her companion towards the nearest exit, but they found it blocked. A trio of guards stood with blades brandished. The two Assassins unsheathed theirs, but just as the men began to charge they suddenly lurched and fell to the ground—an arrow protruding from each of their backs. There were more thunks and gasps of pain or grunts, and they knew more guards had fallen. Both raised a brow at one another before stepping back in surprise as another arrow hit right at their feet. Their gazes shot to the roof, where a trio of archers came to the edge. One pulled off their helmet, revealing a familiarly feminine face.

It was Rosa, and her fellow thieves.

"Sorry! We couldn't resist!" she laughed.

"How about you aim a little closer next time—shoot us in the chest and not just give us heart attacks, mm?" Catherine barked right back, but she was laughing, too, as was Ezio.

"Don't encourage her—I prefer us _both_ alive," he smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Me, too. We did good today. All our training has really helped. We did much better than with the Pazzi," she replied, and her lover hummed with agreement. She paused, though, and then flashed him a glare. "You took the target from me. No sex for at least a week."

The young man groaned, head lolling back, "You are a cruel woman—did you know that?"

"Yep," she winked with a laugh. He laughed with her, but it ebbed as Rosa made her way down and trotted over to them.

"Good to see there's no hard feelings," she smiled coyly before motioning towards the gate with her head. "Come! Let's open the gate for Antonio."

"Sure… but don't think we're letting that go. I'd suggest you watch your ass—you may get an arrow tip stuck in it," the redhead hummed, a devilish look in her eye as they followed the thief towards the main entrance. Rosa just snickered as she undid the latch and opened the wooden frame without hesitation. Antionio and Ugo waited just on the other side with many other thieves, all of whom entered with whoops, hollers, and bright expressions. None was brighter, though, than their leader's, whom clasped both Catherine and Ezio's shoulders warmly.

"_Seta _is fallen and Emiliois no more! All thanks to you both!" he beamed, and then looked to his comrades. "Go! Tear down Emilio's banners! Return what he has stolen from the people."

A cheer rang out, and the motley crew of men—and one woman—ventured off to do as told. There was certainly quite the treasure to return, and much to celebrate. Catherine didn't doubt the _Seta_ would look very different soon, and have quite the festivities going on. She dared to say even Antonio would join in, but for now he looked at them in a way she knew he needed an answer.

"Tell me… how can I repay your service?"

Not quite what she expected for him to ask, but she certainly didn't mind. She would have thought they'd been repaid enough, but if they could get more—why not? Then again, that didn't leave much to want for. They had just returned from a vacation, and they had supplies and a place to stay. She couldn't think of much else, and so looked to her lover.

He shrugged at her, the looked to Antonio, "We don't need much after all you've already given… but money's always nice."

"Easy enough," Antionio chuckled and gestured at a nearby thief, whom procured a rather full pouch of coins for Ezio to take. The leader of the thieves smiled, "What else?"

"I think that's enough for rewards… but we did learn something new," Catherine spoke up, earning a concerned look from the older man.

"'Something new'?"

Ezio nodded, "Emilio was meeting with a man named Carlo. He looked to a government official. Do you know him?"

"Carlo Grimaldi," was the reply, almost instantly save for a pause. "He sits on the Council of Ten. Why do you ask? What are you up to?"

The young man also paused, looking to the redheaded woman on his right. She met his gaze, and knew there would not be as much help or guidance for this one. Antonio may have known the older man and his place in the world, but he didn't seem to have known the connection. Or perhaps he did, and she just couldn't tell yet. The questions that plagued her returned briefly, and she wondered if this was a test of sorts, but then she thought better of it. Test or not, it was their duty to investigate the Templars—and to find their Master, Rodrigo. They would go no matter what, so she nodded to Ezio.

He looked back to Antonio, "We have a meeting to attend."

"A meeting? Over what and when… if I might ask?" the thief inquired, though his tone was more coy than suspicious. Catherine briefly wondered if he already knew.

"A few days, and with any luck—a lead," she replied, and also wondered why she felt the need to hide the full truth.

The thief regarded her for a moment, "Hmm… Then I wish you luck—and still offer my aid. My men are yours to call on should you need their assistance."

"You have our thanks, Antonio. If this meeting proves fruitful, we will let you know at once," Ezio told him with a nod, which was returned.

"I would appreciate it—especially if it had anything to do with Emilio. I would gladly help to remove whatever of his taint remains."

"And we're more than happy to let you."

Antonio's expression remembered somber for a moment longer before his lip suddenly curled upwards and he extended his arms in a jovial manner. His gaze had gone beyond them, and so the two Assassins looked over their shoulders—just in time for a pair of thieves to come forward with two crates. Their tops had already been taken off, and inside was revealed to be a great deal of wine. The boxes were placed at their feet and the two thieves happily dished out a bottle to each of them.

"The fat bastard was holding onto the _good_ stuff! We are going to have quite the night!" one of them laughed, snatching a bottle for themselves just before scurrying off back towards where they came. Their companion followed in suit, leaving the trio alone once more. Antonio chuckled as he opened his wine and took a long drink. He gasped with delight once he'd finished his swig ad grinned broadly.

"They did not lie—this is a _damn_ good wine! Come, my friends! Drink with us! We are going to have a greater festival than even _Carneval_ tonight!" he laughed, and the two Assassins exchanged a look. Ezio smirked as he popped open his bottle and drank.

"What say you, kitty-cat?" he purred, brow waggling.

She smirked right back and took an even longer drink than him, "Depends—think you can hold your liquor, love?"

"Care to find out?" he mused right back.

"Shall we make this wager then? My bet is on Rosa," Antonio piped in, earning surprised looks. He chuckled, "Well?"

"I'm in. I bet… hmm… damn, I can't take Rosa, too. Damn you, Antonio. She can drink more than almost all your men, and I saw her do it, too… ugh, fine. My bet's on you," the redhead huffed, but then laughed when the thief gave her a look of surprise. "Hey, I know Ezio can't last that long, so why not?"

"_Hey_! I do not get drunk that easily! I wager on myself!" the young man grumbled, placing his bottle back into the crate and picking it up. He muttered with a pout, "Bet I can drink this whole blasted thing…"

"Well, shall we go see who earns some coin tonight?" Catherine chuckled as she, too, put her bottle into the other crate, picked it up, and looked to Antonio. Sure, she might have had her doubts here and there, but she did know he was a decent man. A good man. He could be trusted—certainly for some frivolities. They were friends, after all.

The thief smirked, "Yes, let us. And feel free to rest here tonight. I imagine none will leave until well past dawn."

"More like until the next evening—we're _all_ going to be nursing quite the hang over," she snickered as she walked, Ezio and Antonio right with her.

"It'll be worth it," the young man smirked.

"Indeed it will be," the thief chuckled.

Catherine couldn't agree more.

* * *

**55 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_They totally have drunk sex, by the way. _Very _drunk sex. Dang horny teenagers. Young Adults. Whatever. Youngings banging all the time. Yeesh. *cue eye roll*_

_They're a goofy couple sometimes._

_Anyways. SO. More questions about the Guild Leaders hiding things, but not something dangerous. For those who played the games, you should already know what it's about ;) I'm trying to give... reason, of sorts, to why they hid the fact and work it in there, 'cause I thought it was kind of silly no one said anything before that haha. But yeah, so questions there, and lots of hard work that's finally come to fruition. Emilio is dead, and now it's time to spy on some Templar plans. More new things to come, too, so keep an eye out for hints! ;)_

_Oh, and since I'm probably not updating by then (family gatherings and all): MERRY CHRISTMAS, GUYS! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!_


	57. Shadowplay I

**TMWolf: **_Sorry for being away so long again-I seem to be making a habit of that. Things were a bit rougher than I expected over the holidays, and school's come back around, too. Been some other stuff, but I'm hanging in, and the chapters are coming along. If quality drops I beg forgiveness-life is stressful, ha ha. I do my best to find mistakes and do what I can to provide the best, so have mercy! xD _

_As always, how I write the canon is based upon my interpretation of it._

_Thank-you soooooooooooooooooo much for all your reviews! They mean so much and really help brighten my day when I read them. I'm always happy to hear your comments, answer your questions (sort of haha), and hear any critique you might have. So feel free to drop one and lemme know! :) Also, if I have *not* replied to any review I apologize! I think FF's system has been faulty and I may or may not be getting them all, but please know I will always answer if I receive them!_

_**Guest:** Uff thank-you soooooooooo much! Reviews like yours are just so great to get. I'm sooo happy you love the story, and you're very welcome for no drama! I'm not a fan of unnecessary drama, either, so they got any of that out of the way beforehand haha. I hope you'll continue to enjoy it! :)_

_I think that was all the guest reviews, so for the song title... It's by the Killers - Shadowplay! Not really related lyric-wise, but the title fit pretty well haha_

_Not much development or too much happening, but still an important chapter with some things to watch out for ;) Enjoy!_

* * *

**56 ** – _Shadowplay I_

* * *

**September 14, 1485**

**Venice, Italy**

"Uff… I think… I think I partied too much," Catherine groaned, sticking out her tongue as her belly churned unhappily, and her head ached some. That, of course, was due to the copious amounts of wine she'd imbibed over the last two days—along with all the other Thieves and her companion. It was all to celebrate their victory, and it would have been a lie to say they hadn't possibly—make that definitely—taken it too far. She was certainly feeling it now, although at the time it had been incredibly fun, and she vaguely recalled there being non-stop laughter and merriment. She also had the memory of herself and Ezio waking up mostly naked—she still had a shirt on, and his pants had only been pulled halfway down—in one of the many bedrooms. Needless to say, they'd had a lovely night.

Ezio sighed softly, holding back his own groan, "Agreed… which means we're getting old."

"Oh my God, don't say that. I'm _older_ than you. Do you know what that means if _you_ say you're old?" she huffed, reaching up to rub her temple.

"Forgive me, my love—the agony is making me delusional… Or something like that," he chuckled, although his eyes were closed as he, too, rubbed at his face. He sighed again after a few moments, "Do you see anything yet?"

"Nope. We're sure this is the right spot and day, right? I'm not too worried about location, but the day? We kinda lost track of time during our 'celebrations'," she replied with a low hum as she shifted position. It didn't really help her stomach to be crouched on the rooftop, shaded by a canopy on the balcony. The house was, thankfully, unoccupied—why they chose the spot in the first place—so they could remain there to keep watch of things. The shadows kept them hidden, too, as they lounged together, leaning against the pillars of the structure. She stretched herself on the box she was on, and leaned back against Ezio a little. He let his arm drape over her shoulder, playing with a stray lock of hair.

"It was worth it," her lover snickered. When she looked up she found a wicked smirk on his face, to which she rolled her eyes.

A moment later, she chuckled, too, "Yeah, it was. Antonio sure knows how to break in his new house. It's definitely an upgrade. Pretty sure he can fit _all_ the Guild in there."

"Well, not _all_ of them. But at least he was kind enough to give us a room to use whenever we like."

"Pfft. More like no one wants to be in it after we fucked everywhere and on everything in it."

"That, too," Ezio laughed, reaching down to playfully grope her breast. She laughed, too, as she slapped his hand and leaned on the balcony rail again. She roved the crowd quickly, searching for any signs of the men they were after. One was Carlo Grimaldi. She didn't remember exactly what he looked like thanks to it being dark, but it was someone who would be dressed more like a noble politician, and despite the high-end fashion, there was a difference between merchant who made coin and a man who made laws. It would also, potentially, be a small group of men, if there was to be a meeting. The redhead huffed a little, "Wish we knew _when_ they would show up… you think Rodrigo will show for sure?"

"Carlo said the 'Master' called them for this meeting. It's Rodrigo. Emilio's death may make him stay away… but perhaps not. If this meeting is important enough, he'll show."

"Think we'll be able to take any of them out?" she asked, gaze flicking towards various figures of interest.

Ezio shook his head, "No… this will be strictly scouting. We may not need Antonio's permission to kill them… but we should still seek his advice. This is his home, after all. He'll want to know and take part in keeping it safe."

"We do need their help, too. It was mostly wishful thinking, anyways. I mean… it wouldn't be so bad to be finally done with the Templars. At least here, I guess. Mario mentioned there's other Templars and Assassins out there in other countries."

"I can believe it… trying to reign over multiple countries? It has not gone well in the past for men in the open—I doubt it would work in the shadows, either."

"True… Alexander the Great… Ghengas Khan… and basically any king in England couldn't hold onto land too far from home… I wonder if we'll meet any of the other Assassins out there one day?" the redhead inquired, propping her elbow up. She glanced over as Ezio slid down to sit on the balcony beside her.

He shrugged, "It's possible. But our focus is on here—on home. And if… well, if we do, ah… what's the word you used? 'Retire'? Right, that one. If we do that… would we want to meet with other Assassins?"

"Maybe not to do work," Catherine replied, turning to face him. "We could just pass on knowledge? Although… I wonder if we ever will retire. And I don't mean because we die instead or anything—I fully intend on living a long life despite our occupation, but… well, it all seems never ending, y'know?"

"Yes, I suppose it does seem that way. Just looking at Mario and Antonio—and even _La Volpe_. They've sworn their lives to this work, and they are far older than us. Well, Antonio isn't _that_ much older, but still," Ezio chuckled, earning a small smile in kind. His softened as he reached over to take her hand, squeezing it. She looked to him, meeting his eyes. He spoke softly, "Even so… so long as I have you, kitty-'Cat… as long as you are by my side in this war… I will gladly fight it until my last breath with you."

"And I you, Ezio. If our fate is to fight until we fall, then so be it. Although, it wouldn't be so bad to retire to _Monteriggioni_," the redhead grinned. Ezio grinned right on back, although it faltered—but only because she leaned over to give him a kiss. He gladly returned it, cupping the side of her face.

"No, it wouldn't… although we should invest in a country villa—to get away from those naughty boys of Claudia's," he smirked, earning a laugh.

"_That's_ for sure… even if they can be cute. Maybe we can adopt our own then."

He raised a brow, "Adopt?"

"Well, I can't have my own, so… maybe… maybe once things settle with our work… we can see about it? There's bound to be some kid out there who needs us—needs a family," she shrugged with a grin. To her surprise, the young man was quiet. He wasn't angry or anything, nor was he sad. Rather, he looked thoughtful—deeply so. She waited for him, wondering what he would respond. She had entertained the idea many times now, especially when she had become morose about her infertility. It wasn't necessarily unheard of to have a child adopted. Not many noble families did it, but they were different. It was their only hope for a child, too. The only way to have that family.

"If you're certain… then, yes, I think we should. But don't think you need to for me," he said at last, squeezing her hand again.

So that was why.

Catherine chuckled as she sat up, although only to place herself into his lap. His quirked a brow as he instantly wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. She, like-wise, placed her arm around his neck, and gave him a quick kiss.

"Not being able to have a kid does upset me still. It always will, I think, but I don't want to adopt for that… okay, maybe a little, but… no—I want to adopt for _us_. To have a family. Not now, of course. We couldn't give a child all they need… but… maybe once this is all over…"

"I would love that then… Once we have stopped Rodrigo, we'll make a family," Ezio sighed with content, pressing his forehead to hers. She giggled softly as she nuzzled him in return, some of the pain of her shame shedding away. She would always lament never being able to bear children, but they could still have what they wanted, and so it helped.

"Ah—," Ezio suddenly gasped, and the redheaded Assassin was alert at once. She followed her lover's gaze past them to the crowd, and it only took a few moments to find what he had: an older man with graying hair and a thick bear clad in dark, purple robes that were not of the usual make. He walked with great purpose to a bench at the building they'd overheard about and sat down. His eyes watched the crowd eagerly—waiting for someone. She vaguely recognized the man, and so knew it was their target.

It was Carlo Grimaldi.

"Another time, kitty-'Cat," Ezio rumbled, placing a peck on her cheek. She nodded as she slipped from his grasp to keep as close to the shadows as possible. Although she wanted to see what he had in store with that leaving them off, it was time to work.

"See anyone like him? What about with your Vision?" she asked, scanning quickly.

"No, not yet… wait… wait, there… I think I see someone. Hold on… yes, there. The fat man in the red cowl walking from the left," he replied, pointing. She followed and, sure enough, a portly man with his face hidden by a red hood walked nonchalantly towards Grimaldi. He wore a well-lavish tunic of greens and white underneath and a cross on his front. He seemed a little haughty as he approached his companion, arms spread wide. Thankfully, they were close enough to hear—just barely.

"Where is Emilio?" the newcomer inquired.

"I told him to be here," Carlo responded.

The portly man pointed, "You told him yourself? In person?"

Catherine raised a brow. That was not like a confident person. A façade then? A charade to hide his fear? Did he know about them being there?

"Yes, myself, in person… I am concerned that you do not trust me," the older man mused as the other glanced around almost suspiciously.

The younger leaned closer, "As am I."

"The new one is more cautious than he lets on," the redhead spoke softly. Ezio nodded with agreement as, once again, the newcomer looked around, as if searching for them.

The man hummed, "Perhaps he will arrive with the others. Walk with me…"

"Let's hurry and get down there. I want to keep hearing what they're saying," the young Assassin mused, nudging her forward.

She agreed whole-heartedly, and they quickly skirted to the streets below. The two men were thankfully easy to spot in the crowd, so they were able to circumnavigate around the throng of people, yet keep a safe distance away. The men evidently had no idea they were being followed despite the portly one looking back occasionally. From what she could hear, they spoke of something going on in a palace. Carlo was attempting to sway someone named Mocenigo—to become part of his inner circle. She didn't know of such a political figure, but she didn't particularly know the city all that well still. She looked to Ezio, wondering if he knew, but he merely glanced at her. If he did know, he would say so later. Right now, they needed to focus on the task at hand, so she let it be.

"Yes, I understand," the older man replied to his companion after being reprimanded to try harder. "But it is harder than I expected."

The portly man hummed with annoyance, "And why is that, Carlo?"

"I do not know! He just a… The Dogedoes not like me."

"The _Doge_?" Catherine hissed. It made sense they would go for a man of that title, but just ignoring that—the Templars were in with, perhaps, the most powerful man in the city!? That wasn't good.

"I wonder why," the unknown man mused, brow quirked.

"It is not my fault! I keep trying to please him. I learn what he craves, and I have it delivered—the finest jams from the orchards of Sardinia! The newest fashions from _Milano_—"

"Yes, and that is called being a sycophant."

"A what—?" Carlo guffawed, glaring. "What did you call me—?"

"A doormat. A flatterer. A bootlicker. Need I go on?"

_"Catherine, wait," _Ezio hissed suddenly, pointing to guards on the bridge the two men had passed. There was little crowd, too, which could mean trouble. No one was actively looking for them, but they would look out of place. Thankfully, the men moved slowly and luck was on their side. A small group of courtesans was nearby, and so the Assassins quickly motioned for them and passed some coin. The ladies were more than happy to walk with him, keeping them in the center of the group and serve as a distraction. It did as was needed; they passed through the posted men unmolested and smoothly blended into the crowd in the open lot. The targets continued on, seemingly unaware.

"Bastard… you do not know what it is like. You do not understand the pressure in there—"

The portly man snarled, "Oh, I do not understand _pressure_?!"

"No! You have no idea!" Carlo snapped right back, stopping to jab a finger at his companion. Catherine and Ezio stopped to make note of it. Apparently not all of the Order got along. They might have been bound by a similar goal, but dissention was present, and it was useful. Maybe. They could possibly not use it at all, but if the Order had cracks, it would break easier. The redhead pulled back from her thoughts as the older man continued on his rant. "You are a government official. I am _two_ steps from the Doge himself! I am beside him day and night. You _wish_ you could be where I am—!"

"Are you _done_?"

The older man sneered, "Hardly. You listen to _me_ now. I am close! The Doge can be recruited to our cause, I am sure of it. I just… need a little more time."

"Time is not a thing we have in great supply," the portly man replied, calmly, much to Catherine's surprise. She knew the feeling, though—their time was limited, and yet more guards barred their path. Luck was on their side yet again, thankfully. Although it took more coin, they pulled more courtesans to their side to distract the squad of guards blocking their way to the bridge their two targets had ventured over. The conversation between the men had died down—a mention about resting one's feet and it not being a safe place to talk—and so the two Assassins exchanged looks as they kept their comfortable distance. They were heading towards the _Piazza di San Marco_. It was a large, open expanse—an odd spot for a meeting, the redhead noted. It was probably to meet and move to a more secure location, or so she surmised. Perhaps they would finally see Rodrigo then?

"Alright, move this way. I can see more coming from the left. It's too open here, so we need to keep back," Ezio murmured, tugging her arm as they passed through the archway. Their two targets still walked onwards, but they skirted towards a wooden structure that would conceal them well enough. From further to the left she spotted two others approaching—a decidedly older man with a long, graying beard and even longer gown, and a much younger, well-built man. He carried himself with a strong air, although his face was stern and stalwart. He gave off a dangerous vibe, unlike his older companion. The aged man was more like the other two Templars—their danger lied in their power of influence. He was also apparently cousin to the portly man, by his greeting.

"We thought Emilio would be with you—," the younger cousin began.

"Emilio is dead," was the morose reply from the older. The two other men reacted at once with shock and surprise, wondering how it could be.

"The Assassins… The same ones who hunted down the Pazzi! They are here, in _Venezia_!" Carlo rasped, pointing a finger to the ground between them to make his point. Well, if the enemy hadn't been sure before, they were now, Catherine noted. And, by the older man's lack of surprise, he had already known.

"It is so," he stated, and then looked to his cousin. "Silvio—did you not know?"

The silence he received in kind said it all. Well, that was something—or _had_ been. The element of surprise was gone, which meant they had to tread more carefully. At least, more carefully than before. She supposed the fact the Templars were afraid was useful, though, even if it meant they would be more cautious as well.

The older man went on, looking between them all, "They could be anywhere. They could be here right now, and we might not even know it! They struck Emilio inside his own _palazzo_!"

"And so, what of our plans?!" Silvio inquired, his voice no longer as confident—fake or not—as before. Catherine eyed him some, wondering if he would be a weak link then?

"There is no longer time for subtlety, my brothers. We must act _now_," the older man urged, but Carlo prostrated himself before him.

"But, Marco, I am so close. A few more days. If I can just—"

"No," the older man ground out, standing fast. "It happens this week."

_"This week? What happens?" _Catherine heard Ezio murmur from their spot, his body slightly concealing hers—as if two lovers standing close together. Like him, she had no answer, but they needed to find out. Unfortunately, the body guard seemed to have a good sixth sense. He had come towards the group, his eyes roving the crowd as if he knew they were there, and urged the men to move onwards. He hadn't been named, but the Templars listened to him—was he one of them, as well? She wouldn't think any foot soldier would be allowed to speak to men of their stature without being reprimanded.

"We need to follow… but that one guy," she rumbled, focusing on him.

Ezio nodded, "I know… we should split up—be less conspicuous. Here. Take some of the coin in case you need the courtesans."

"Got it… now let's hurry—they're talking about Rodrigo."

Sure enough, topic of the Spaniard came up. Catherine had only a little difficulty keeping an ear on things as she made sure to stay on the right. The area was too open for her liking, but there was an open enough crowd on her side to give her cover. She kept a hand on her coin, though—just in case—and looked to the men when she heard them sound off with surprise. Apparently Rodrigo was, for sure, here, and he had some decision to make. What, though? What were they after? What did they hope to do to _Venezia_? It couldn't be good, but they had to know what it was in order to stop it.

"About which of us shall step into the robes of the Doge, 'Cousin'," Silvio replied to the older man, and the redhead almost tripped.

The _Doge_? They were going to replace the leader of the city with one of these four men? They were going to kill the _Doge_? That was insane! How could they dare to think—no. No, it was well within reason. They tried to kill the Medici, who ruled _Firenze_. They would go to any lengths to place themselves into seats of power. Still, to kill such a powerful figure, and in what seemed such a short time?

She supposed she could at least be happy there was conflict over the decision. Not with killing the man, of course; no, they were more than able to be so callous. Rather, they had begun to bicker over who, out of their lot, would be the better leader. Silvio thought himself the better for having thought up how to save the city in the first place—"save" meaning to have them in charge, of course; to subject and oppress the people. Arrogance at its best; enough to make her growl softly. Marco, however, though his so-called "wisdom" was key to ruling. Yet more hubris, as the Templars constantly seemed to be known for. In a way, that was good—it bore weakness through their seemingly impenetrable walls.

"Calm! Calm, friends, please. There is no need for this. You know it is not up to either of you…For all we know, he may not even choose a Barbarigo," Carlo spoke up, smiling and acting as a peace-maker, but Catherine could see otherwise. He was just as greedy, but he apparently had the sense to be more subtle about it. "More" being not much, but still more.

_"Ezio, did you hear them?" _she whispered as the young man came up beside her at the exit's archway. The Templars had ventured off to the bridge, allowing them to reunite. By the young man's grim expression, she knew he had.

"Bastard," he hissed, not concerned with lowering his voice as the men moved onwards again. "To go after the Doge himself… this is bad…."

"We need to keep on them. We need to know what they're planning," Catherine grimaced. Ezio agreed whole-heartedly, although they waited as the men got a little further ahead. Among them, Silvio laughed, mocking Carlo, whom scowled.

"And why not me? I am the one who has done all the hard work!" the aging politician snapped, and at another point in time Catherine might have found that amusing. Now she saw it as something to exploit. The cracks were a weapon to be used against them, even if it was swathed over—for now—with the notion that Rodrigo would make the decision.

"Gentleman, we should move a little faster. I feel eyes on us."

Both Ezio and Catherine shot back behind the wall they had nearly skirted from. The redhead cursed, noting it was the well-built man. She had been right. He could sense them, or something like that. He at least had incredible instincts. Were they Assassin-like? There were instances of Brothers becoming the enemy and vice-versa.

"He's trouble," the young man growled softly, his body tense and on edge. He was ready to take him then and there, and she didn't blame him.

"Wait—did you hear them? He's… just a guard. I guess that's somewhat of a relief. To have someone with his instincts actually like them as a Templar?" the redhead mused, shaking her head.

He huffed, forcing himself to relax some, "No less dangerous, though. He'll have to be dealt with eventually if we want to get close to them… I dare not move any nearer than this…"

"Me neither… but looks like we don't need to—they're stopping. Bodyguard being a good boy and further off, but they're right there… I can still hear them talking, so we should be okay from here," Catherine mused, leaning casually against the far wall, halfway out of sight. The bodyguard would have a hard time spotting her properly from here, and just as she said, they could just make out what was being said. It was mostly a continuation of the argument; bickering over who was best suited. It wasn't really anything useful, and so she focused on the bodyguard instead. As before, she noted he was well built. He would be no easy opponent in a fight, but bulk meant he was slow. She could treat him like a brute, but if he didn't need armor, then he probably knew a way to make up for it. No, they'd need something more to beat him. Not just strength and skills. They needed smarts with him.

"Catherine."

The redhead blinked and looked to her companion. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized he was rigid; muscles taut and coiled; ready to strike. His eyes were fierce with focus and his lips were set in a stern snarl. She shifted her look to what he was seeing, and her body tensed, too.

It was the Spaniard.

Rodrigo Borgia.

At long last, he was before them again.

Catherine reached and grasped Ezio's hand, squeezing. She sealed her lips—just in case. Their ultimate target, and yet he wasn't to be touched. Worse still, she had a feeling in her gut he _couldn't_ be touched—not by her, anyways. Oh, she recalled all too well what had happened the last time she had encountered the man. It had been years now, but he looked hardly any older and carried himself with the same air. She swore she thought she felt the Clock, after so many months, warm up again, as if warning her, but it was a figment of her imagination. It was a figment of her fears.

Dammit all, she was scared. She shouldn't have been, but she was. She was afraid of the Clock activating. She should have been stronger, but she worried. What if it did more harm to her? They didn't plan to kill Rodrigo just yet, but what if it came to that? Would she be able to help? Would it activate if she did?

"It's alright."

Hazel eyes shot up to meet dark, amber ones. She felt his hand squeeze hers back. Even without more words, she knew. He wouldn't let it come to that. She had told him of her encounter with Rodrigo and all the others. He knew everything about the Clock, and he had done everything in his power since that night long ago to keep it from activating. So far they had done a decent job, but they weren't perfect. She was thankful all those times hadn't done anything harmful, or it didn't seem to be the case. She'd suffered no ill effects, anyways. This was different, though. Those times had been but a pause in time. With Rodrigo, there had been pain from the get-go. Ezio would help protect her from it, though. Yet, she feared that, too—he would be on his own. She couldn't help him without being a burden.

"Stay here. I'll move closer," he whispered as the Spaniard joined the group, admonishing them. They grew subservient at once, and the Assassin used that distraction to move ahead to another alley.

"The choice of Doge was never up to any of you—and you were never given permission to make plans!" he growled, eyeing them unhappily.

Marco bowed his head apologetically, "Forgive us, Master. We wish only to serve."

"The plan is this," Rodrigo went on, apparently pacified by the submission, "Doge Mocenigo will die tonight. And once the deed's been done, Marco shall take his place."

"I humbly thank-you, Master," the old politician replied with a low bow, the others looking on ruefully. Silvio even stepped forward, argument on his tongue, but was silenced with but a glance from Rodrigo, whom spoke once more.

"Good! Sir Grimaldi," he started, turning to the older man. "You are closest to Mocenigo, your work the most vital. Serve us well, and it won't be forgotten… walk with me."

Once again, their targets moved.

Catherine let out a breath of air she didn't know she'd been holding as she trotted forward, touching Ezio's back when she reached him. He glanced at her, then signaled to stay back some. She nodded as he took point with her a few seconds behind—just in case. Their targets continued on with their conversation, thankfully unaware of their presence. Apparently they hoped to have the Doge go quietly—a far wiser choice, especially considering how their blatant, forward attack had gone with the Medici. To do so, Rodrigo urged Carlo poison the Doge's meal by waltzing into the kitchen. He would never be suspected of such a thing, being so trusted, so it would be perfect. The poison of choice? If they heard right it was Cantarella. She had never heard of it, but apparently it was a form of arsenic, difficult to trace.

The Templars could be frightening, when it came down to it.

Not only were their methods deadly, but their callousness was unheard of.

"They're stopping on the bridge. This way," Ezio called out as they came to the massive wooden construct connecting the district they were within to the one across the river. The young man brought them to the far side where spaces in the wood provided footholds. There were structures on the roof of the bridge's siding that would provide good cover, and it was to there they hid. They kept at a low crouch, still hidden from view. Their body guard had failed to notice them, despite his keen eyes, and so the Templars continued on with their talk, so sure their enemy knew nothing.

At least, Catherine hoped that was the case. She was still holding her breath at this point, hoping her Clock remained quiet.

"Forgive me, Master. But is this not perhaps a tad dangerous for you? Involving yourself so intimately with the minutes of our plans?" Marco inquired as they came to a stop.

"I feel the need to involve myself more directly… the Pazzi disappointed us in _Firenze_. I pray you will not do the same," Rodrigo replied, looking between them all sternly.

Silvio raised a hand, as if to wave off the concern, "Do not worry this time. The Pazzi were a bunch of foolish—"

"The Pazzi were a potent and venerable family, reduced to rubble by two, young assassins. Do not underestimate this troublesome foe—who now haunts your city—or the same will fate with befall the Barbarigo. They have means to end us quickly, and so I want this done promptly. We can ill afford to give the Assassins time to work against us."

"What do you mean—what do they have?" Carlo inquired, an edge of worry to his voice.

"Something too powerful for their own good—something not easily explained. Only know it calls us to work swiftly, but cautiously. Never believe you are invulnerable."

"Then how can we hope to succeed if the Assassins bear such a power?" Marco guffawed.

Rodrigo's gaze fell, and his hand brushed a pouch at his side before he met their gazes once more, "Worry not; our enemy is not infallible. They, too, have weakness. This power is not so readily used."

"How do you know this, Master? Why the riddles?" Silvio ground out, tone laced with confusion.

"Not riddles. This power is beyond full understanding, but some secrets can be learned, and I have done as such. Have faith in me, my friends. The Templars are as powerful as our enemy. Know this, and do not fail me," he spoke, and the uncertainty in the others settled some. It could not be fully soothed, but it was enough. That, however, was the least of Catherine's concern.

Rather, she mulled over Rodrigo's words. He spoke of a power—what did he mean? What power did they, the Assassins, have that the Templars didn't have before? As Silvio had asked, why the riddles? Why the cryptic words? What was he on about?

The redhead's heart skipped a beat as she felt a sudden flare of heat in her pocket. She knew what was coming. She felt it—in her body; her bones; her mind. The world stilled and changed to bright lights. All were engulfed in them, made of strings, except for her. Panic seized her as she tried to understand why it was happening. Yes, she feared what trying to do to Rodrigo in this moment would do, but she wasn't attacking him, so why?

A tug in her mind made her look to Rodrigo. Something was wrong. Something was _off_. He was brighter than she remembered. Or had she seen him lit before? She couldn't recall, but he was brighter than the others. His lights seemed more like an actual body than strings. He almost looked like a ghost—a bright, golden ghost.

And then his head turned—looking right at her.

She fall back, blinking in surprise, and in the same instant the world returned to normal. Rodrigo still had his head turned their way, but it was only for a second and then he looked to his men again. Her heart pounded in her chest as more questions shot through her mind. Had he actually moved? That was impossible, though. _Nothing _could move except her in that place. And then why did he glow so uniformly? Why did he look like he had shape? It wasn't normal. Yet, it had to have been a fluke. Surely?

"Catherine!" Ezio hissed, drawing her from her stupor. She blinked quickly, and realized he was holding her steady. He must have called out to her more than once by the worry in his eyes. She glanced to the bridge, but the Templars were gone. She cursed and made to stand, but he kept her there. He took her head into his heads and forced her to look at him. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"It… I…" she tried, failing to find the right words. She shut her eyes as she paused, realizing the futility at the moment. She breathed in slowly to gather herself and then met her lover's gaze. She was still a little shaken, but she was better now as she told him, "The Clock activated."

"What? How? Why?"

"I… I'm not sure… and… it… things were… I don't understand, but… something was… off. Not with me, but… no, we can't worry about that. Ezio, we need to stop them—_now_. They're going to kill the Doge tonight!" she hissed, and this time when she stood up he didn't stop her.

He grimaced, "I know… what a damn fine mess we've made… shit, we need help. We need to get to Antonio right away—he'll know what to do… but Catherine, we need to figure out what happened with your Clock. Please, try and make sense of it. I want to know what happened."

"I will. I'm sorry—I don't know right now, but… I'll try. Promise. But first the Doge. Let's go," she replied with a firm nod, and as soon as he gave one back, they took off.

Despite her focus turning to saving the leader of the city, the weight of the events just moments ago remained and weighed heavier than the world upon her shoulders.

* * *

**56 **– _End_

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**_TMWolf: _**_Soooo. Stuff happening, yaaaaay! Mostly just following the game story, but there are sooooooooome differences. I'll leave y'all to hypothesize what you will from it all ;) Also, potential adoption thoughts going on, but I'll still never tell what happens for the couple until the end TEE HEE._

_Hope y'all enjoyed it, though, and I'll do my best to have the next chapter out in a timely manner. Again, school is back on, so it may be a bit dicey. We'll see! _


	58. Shadowplay II

**TMWolf: **_Oof, sooo I definitely meant to pop this baby out a lot longer ago, but... well, life happens. I've been dealing with school, my side business, and then other personal stuff all tied in with plenty of stress, so my muse was like: lol baaaiii. It also wanted to do art instead, so there's that, too, ha ha. But! I got the next chapter done, and I hope the next won't take long, but I can't guarantee anything right now, for which I do apologize. I still WILL finish this monster, so don't worry about that. It's just going to take longer than I like IP_

_Right, so... as usual, how I write the canon is based upon my interpretations of it, although I do try to stick as close to possible!_

_For reviews... as always, you guys always make my day/night/etc., and I seriously love all of your input and/or questions. It does my writer's heart good haha. So for the guest reviews..._

**_Gemma:_**_ Aww thanks so much! And yessss, love the flirty banter. I try to make it as real and cute as possible so it's good to know when my readers think so! Knows I'm doing my job right, ha ha xD And no problem! That's part of the fun of them; they both respect and trust one another to do what needs to be done and come back to one another; it's part of what makes them so much stronger together, too. Oh, and to answer your question... she's... two years older, I believe. I think I had her 19 when she arrived, and he was 17, so it'd be like 2 years or so. She's a cougar ;D jkjk xD_

**_Guest_**_** (1)**: It's going to be a blast! Promise! ;) Lots of fun stuff happens!_

**_Laurel: _**_Thanks so much! And yess be curious. Some big things with that, although no revelations for a little while longer still! xD_

_I think that was all the reviews? Apologies if I miss any, it can be hard to keep track! xD_

_So... again, continuation of the previous chapter, so again: The Killers - Shadowplay for the title._

_Onto saving (or not) the Doge!_

* * *

**57 – **_Shadowplay II_

* * *

**September 14, 1485**

**Venice, Italy**

It wasn't far to the _Palazzo _Antonio had claimed as his own, but the trek was arduous; each step felt like the weight of the world was on Catherine's shoulders—or rather, right in her pocket. She didn't feel true pain or ache, but she certainly did in her mind. Questions plagued her the entire way, and kept her in a solemn silence as she tried to make sense of things. Unfortunately, that tactic never worked. Rather, only new worries formed, and with a glance to her lover—his face set firmly as stone, lips creased thin—she knew he was considering them, too. Each time her Clock activated he took it as a personal failure; an inability to protect her. Truthfully, this was a different scenario—they had been in no danger—but he would consider it all the same. Without doubt there would be a lengthy discussion to try and figure it out.

Later, however.

Right now, the pope's life hung in the balance, and they were very short on time.

Rosa was lounging lazily in the open courtyard, half-eaten apple in hand when they arrived. She perked up at the sight of them, a grin on her face, but it faltered some as she took note of their expressions. A brow quirked as she stood up from her chair—spirited out of one of the rooms—and turned her apple in her hand thoughtfully.

"For a moment there, I thought you'd come here in a rush just to see me… but something is telling me otherwise," she mused, glancing between them.

"We need to speak with Antonio," Ezio replied at once, panting lightly.

Catherine nodded, "It's urgent—where is he?"

"Hold on, I'll call him," Rosa replied, turning to face the stairway balcony to their right. "Antonio! Ezio and Catherine are here! Hurry up—they say it's urgent!"

The man in question popped his head out not a moment later, an equally as perplexed look as the one on his pupil's face. He said a quick greeting and to wait a moment as he made a beeline down the stairs to them.

"My friends, is everything alright?" was his—rhetorical—question, and the two Assassins glanced at one another before the young man stepped forward.

"Carlo Grimaldi and the Barbarigo are in league with the one they call The Spaniard. They're to murder the Doge—and replace him with one of their own. They will have all of _Venezia_—her entire fleet—in their grasp."

Antonio scowled, throwing up his arm, "And they call _me_ a criminal!"

"So you'll help us? 'Cause we could really use it," Catherine grimaced, and the leader of thieves nodded.

"Of course. After what you have done, I will gladly stand by your side. You have all the support of my men, as well."

"And _women_!" Rosa smirked, although there was a fierce determination flaring in her eyes.

The redhead grinned back, "Thank-you—."

"But," Antonio interrupted, a sullen look about him as he regarded them both carefully, "I must warn you both… It is not going to be like with Emilio. It will not be so easy to get in. _Palazzo Ducale _is the most heavily guarded building in _Venezia_."

"Nothing is impenetrable," Ezio was quick to reply, his tone sure and steady. Briefly, Catherine was envious. She was not nearly so confident.

Rosa chuckled, "This is why we like you two. Well, at least why we like _Ezio_. Catherine gives us far more to like."

The young man gave the lady-thief a "really" look, pouting somewhat. His redheaded companion managed to crack another grin before returning her focus to Antonio, whom motioned for them to follow.

"Come! Let us go take a look. We will come up with a plan. Rosa, prepare the others. Make sure they are at the ready," the thief leader commanded, to which the woman nodded and scampered off. The trio alone, they headed off towards the back exit. The older man glanced back at them, "First, tell me all that happened—how do they plan to do things?"

"Poison. They called it Cantarella—some kind of arsenic. They're going to do it during his meal tonight," Catherine replied, earning an unhappy expression.

"I know it… a terrible poison. It works quickly and it is untraceable. They will think the man died of natural causes—they will be none the wiser. Damn… I did not realize they would make a move so quickly. We were so focused on ridding this place of Emilio…"

Ezio waved off the man's remorse, "I doubt even if we knew about it, we wouldn't have known they were already so prepared they could do it _tonight_. They've had this planned for a long time—Emilio's death only gave them more reason to go ahead with it."

"And we still have time to stop it," the redheaded added, to which Antonio nodded as they continued onwards towards the Doge's palace. They passed by the wooden bridge where the Templar meeting had finished, steering towards the right.

"This business with the Doge… terrible," the leader of the thieves went on, sighing with a shake of his head. "Though treachery like this no longer surprises me. When I was a child, we were taught that the nobles were just and kind. I believed it, too. Though my father was only a cobbler and my mother a scullery maid, I aspired to be much more.

He face grew firm, yet dark as well, "I studied hard. I preserved—but the nobles would never have me. If you are not born one of them, acceptance is impossible."

Catherine glanced over at the man as they jogged, noting she had never heard such talk from the man, nor about him. She realized Antonio rarely talked about himself, and suddenly any uncertainty she had felt about him before seemed silly.

"So I ask you both—who are the true nobles of _Venezia_? Men like Carlo Grimaldi and Marco Barbarigo? No! I say _we_ are: the thieves and mercenaries and whores. While we work to save the city and its people, the nobles seek to make it their plaything."

Catherine couldn't agree more—to an extent. She knew not all nobles were so cruel and biased. Ezio and his family had been a noble one, after all, and Leonardo was a noble now, but he would never be like that. She knew what Antonio spoke of, though. She had seen it as he had—back in _Firenze_ and _San Gimignano_. It was everywhere. It was even in her time. The rich looked down upon the poor, and it wasn't always so often the destitute could reverse their situation. At least, not with a great deal more effort. Whatever the case, her respect for the leader of the Thieves grew some.

"That was what my father thought—so to speak," Ezio replied after a moment as they crossed a bridge. "He saw all men as equals. He hoped one day we would no longer cheat each other—that hummanity would show what it was truly meant to be. He made friends with the thieves and the mercenaries and courtesans, but also the nobles. He found the good in them and he protected it. I like to think that is what we do as well."

The trio stopped, Catherine looking at her lover with a bright shine to her eyes and an even brighter smile on her face. She reached over and squeezed his hand, an affection he returned—also with a smile of his own. Antonio regarded Ezio as well, although not with a smile. Rather, his face was set more somberly, but not with malice. It was more like he was contemplating, and, after a few more moments, a grin appeared.

"Indeed you do, my friend… and I am glad to call you as such. Both of you. You do your father proud, Ezio."

"I hope so… but I have Catherine to thank for that—she keeps me on the right path," the young man chuckled, eyes gentle and loving as he looked upon the redhead.

"What can I say? I like giving you a good whipping," she giggled, winking playfully.

Antonio laughed, "Save it for later, lovebirds. We are here."

The older man brought them beneath the archway leading into the main area. The sky bloomed as buildings gave way to open space. Briefly, Catherine was a little uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed it as much when following the Templars, but they were decidedly exposed here. There weren't enough people to make a good crowd, and there was only a large tower and the Doge's _palazzo_ that served as any structure to make alleyways. Otherwise, buildings lined a massive plaza with a hanging stand in the center.

"We need to scout the _palazzo_ carefully, see it from every angle. We just might find a way in. I know of a tall _Campanile _behind the _palazzo_. Or we might find a way to climb the back of the _Basilica_. Do you have any ideas?"

"I assume the front door is out?" Ezio mused wryly.

"Very good! We will try the front door as well, wise ass!" Antonio laughed, shaking his head. "Come this way, to the alley. We will be less noticeable."

They skirted to the shadows on the right of the tower in the plaza, for which Catherine was glad for. She had definitely embraced that part of the Assassin life—shadows were often more comfortable than the light. Well, except for back home, but that was different. Here there were too many enemies—both known and unknown. It also made keeping a low profile form the four armored brute sentries at the main gate easier.

Catherine frowned, "Sorry, love—that's a door we aren't getting through. Certainly not without making a big ruckus."

"She is right. The Templars will have time to murder the doge before we are able to get through all these guards," Antonio sighed.

"No doubt we'd have to pick the lock, too, which wouldn't be possible. No, this won't work. We need to try the other place. Antonio," Ezio replied, motioning with his head to the leader of the thieves. Their companion nodded back, and led them onwards. They skirted to the right of the doge's _palazzo_, passing the docks and over another bridge to a set of buildings still under construction. The man gestured to a nearby ladder, which took them to the roofs. There the thief urged them to continue up the high tower—one they had used to scout before. It was a, thankfully, easy climb, and at the top a view they'd seen before. This time, though, they regarded the _palazzo_ more closely; counted the many guards—something Antonio noted with exasperation—the lack of a back gate entrance, and impassible walls.

Things were not boding well, but there was yet another spot to look at. A quick leap of faith down, and they were trotting through the streets, hoping the next would be their way in. It was towards the _Basilica_, as their thief companion had mentioned. Catherine nor Ezio has scaled those walls much, what with so much under construction, but the scaffoldings and ramps provided an easy way up. The rooftops were smooth and bright under the sunlight—and lead right to a tall, sharp metal fence barring their way. They were too tall and too sharp to scale without trouble, and then there was the issue of the archers that weren't far away. Furthermore, there were bound to be countless more guards inside.

"Look!" Antonio suddenly hissed, jabbing a finger through the metal rungs. "Is that not him—Grimaldi?"

Both Assassins pressed to the fence, peering into the hallway the thief leader has pointed to. Sure enough, his keen eyes had found the old man walking with another dressed in elegant, green and white robes. It was the doge, and he and the Templar were in deep conversation. However, the leader of _Venezia_ didn't seem too happy with what Grimaldi had to say. Useful, perhaps, and yet the Templar being there wasn't good.

"If Grimaldi is with him… then they're making their move sooner than we thought!" Catherine growled, looking up to the gate's spokes. It was almost twice her height, but with Ezio's help she might get over, but the other wouldn't without a third. The archers were still there, though. "Shit! We don't have a good way in!"

"I hate to admit it, but she is right. There is no way in or out for men," Antonio snarled, shaking his head and turning this way and that. He gestured to a flock of birds that fluttered over the gate to the roof below, finding the spot to their liking. "Only _birds_!"

Ezio's eyes lit as grasped Catherine's shoulder, "Yes… _birds_! Come, my love, we have a good friend to visit."

"Wait—what? What are you talking about? You don't have time to visit a friend!" their companion guffawed.

"'A good friend'?" the redhead added, brow scrunched. Her lover just grinned, letting her think. It took another moment, but then she gasped and let out a laugh. Antonio, however, was still thrown for a loop and stared with confusion when she looked to him.

"Well? Who is this friend?" he pressed, frowning.

Catherine smirked, "Leonardo da Vinci."

**-O-**

"What? What are you asking?"

The redheaded assassin sighed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. She put a finger to Ezio's lips before the young man could press on, his forward questioning having confused their artistic companion. What did he expect, though? He came barging in—after knocking, thankfully—and started to spew questions about whether or not Leonardo's invention worked, but with no context. How else was their friend to react? As such, the young woman took the reins and motioned towards the flying machine their friend had hanging from the walls.

"He means your flying machine—he wants to know if it can work yet. I _would_ have told him not yet if he had just told me what he was up to, too, but you know he is," she hummed, hands on her hips as she gave her lover a look.

He grinned, shrugging, "What? There was no time."

"The flying machine? I… Well, I do not know if it can fly—just as you said. I have been tweaking it more since you last helped, but… it is still a prototype. An idea. It is not ready yet," the artist replied, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Have you tried it?"

Catherine balked, "Wha—?!"

"_No_!" Leonardo replied quickly, cutting her off. "It is too dangerous!"

"Not to mention we haven't tested it with people."

"Precisely. To test it, you would have to leap off a tower! Who would be mad enough to do a thing like that?"

Ezio suddenly smirked, and Catherine figured it out real quick.

"Oh, no—no, no, no, no—."

"Leonardo… I think you just found your madman."

"Er—What?" the artist blinked while the redhead jabbed a finger at her lover's face.

"_Hell_ no! You are _not_ going to fly that death machine—no offense, Leo."

"None taken."

Ezio held out his arms, "It will be fine, kitty-'Cat, and this is our best bet! You heard Antonio—only birds get into the _palazzo_! This is perfect! And we are short on time."

"Yes, we are, which means we should use it to focus on a _good_ way to get in! Not potentially killing yourself!" she hissed right back, glaring him down.

"Catherine, trust me, alright? I'll be fine. I always am," he grinned back, although it faltered when she gave him a disbelieving look. He sighed as he rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright—_most_ times. This will be one of them. Promise!"

"I admit… I would not mind seeing it in practice."

The redhead whirled on the artist, "Leo!"

"Then it's settled! Come, we'll set it up. And Catherine?" the young man grinned, and plastered a sloppy kiss on her lips. "Just trust me."

She looked at him long and hard as Leonardo went to get his contraption down. She bit her lip, torn in her indecision. In the end, though, she sighed.

"Alright. Let's do it."

"While that is all good and well… what is going on exactly?" Leonardo inquired, his confusion all too palpable. The young man laughed as he clasped his friend's shoulder and gestured to the machine with his head.

"We need your help with something. Don't worry, we'll explain on the way."

**-O-**

"I changed my mind. You're going to die if you do this—you're not doing it," Catherine frowned as she stood behind the flying contraption, arms folded over her chest firmly. Ezio, however, just laughed, and looked back to Leonardo, who was tinkering with it. She, of course, was none too happy about that, and promptly pinched him right on his ass in way so that it hurt. He yelped and pouted at her, but didn't relent, much to her chagrin. She knew he wouldn't, though. He was determined, and despite her dislike for all of this, the idea, in theory, _was_ their best bet. It was even good—devilishly so. However, this was the first test _ever_, and although she had a _lot_ of faith in Leonardo and knew his inventions were brilliant and far ahead of his time—that, and she had been helping him tinker, although never gave out right answers whether she knew them or not—she didn't recall his flying machine actually ever being able to _work_. So she knew she was in her right to be worried about the _love of her life_ being so eager to jump in and take a go. He, of course, had no qualms about making her worry, and he would suffer for it later. For now, Ezio assured her with a gentle kiss on her forehead, and came closer to what she was starting to consider a "death machine".

"So, how does she work?" he inquired.

Leonardo looked to him with bright eyes, "Have you ever watched a bird in flight? It is not about being lighter than air… It is about grace and balance!"

"Oh, well that takes him out of the running then," Catherine snorted, earning a chuckle from their friend and an eye roll from her lover.

"Yes, well, regardless, Ezio, you must use your body's own weight to control your elevation and direction."

"Sounds easy enough," the Assassin shrugged as he shuffled his way into the contraption.

"_Please_ be careful, Ezio. We really have never tested this before…" the redhead spoke up, coming over to grasp his shoulder. His face was more somber as he met her gaze, a gentle smile in his visage.

"Don't worry, my love. I will be careful. And if I'm not… well, you'll just have to smack sense into me like you usually do."

"I'm going to smack sense into you regardless, you oaf," she huffed, but then laughed a moment later. "Already, get going. See if this will get us into the _palazzo_."

Ezio nodded, and shot off at a sprint. He began to glide, and Catherine would have been lying if she said it didn't make her heart race with excitement. Here she was, seeing Leonardo's great invention at work. She could never have dreamed she would get to see it in person, even if she knew it didn't really work out. Yet, her lover was actually doing a decent job, although he was struggling to stay aloft. His weight was too much for the thing to handle, and so he was gradually falling back down towards the street. The steering was handling well enough, though, and so the only issue was how to keep him up.

"Look! Just look! It is really working!" Leonardo suddenly laughed, not unlike a giddy child. When she turned to face him, his hands were clasped together and his eyes were lit even brighter than before. Who could blame him, though? His dream had become a reality—so to speak. She couldn't help feeling proud and elated for him. This was a big moment.

"You've worked hard for it, but is it really a surprise? You're Leonardo da Vinci! You're a genius!" she grinned right back, glancing briefly to Ezio, whom was now out of sight.

"Ah, but you are owed as much credit. I would never have gotten this far without your help, my friend… and perhaps we should go find where he landed," he chuckled, turning back towards the ladder.

"Leo, please," she laughed again, following after. "You would have done it on your own even without me. If anything, I was more of a bystander."

"Hardly. You must stop refusing yourself what is due, my dear Catherine. Or must I get Ezio to convince you, mm? Seems _he_ knows how to do so, no?"

The redhead paused, noting the odd tone to the artist's voice. He flashed her a grin, and she flushed. He was being cheeky!

"Hey, just because you helped get us together doesn't mean you get to pull stuff like that!" she huffed while descending down.

"Oh, but I do believe it does—along with all the teasing, of course. Do not think I have not noticed you have been away more than usual lately. You have been avoiding me."

"Because of _work_, thank-you very much. And I've let you tease us, so don't act like you don't get to," she grumbled back.

"Oh, but it is hardly enough! But I am very happy for you both, you know. You are good for each other. Of course, I would have just told you both loved each other if you had not by then anyways."

"Wait—what!?"

"Hmm? Did I not mention that before? Yes, well, being that you two were being stubborn I had planned to simply mention you both had feelings for one another and force you both to admit it during dinner one time, but you finally got to it before I could. It has been four years now has it not? Wait—are you two married yet? I could have sworn…"

"Oh my God, _Leoooo_," Catherine groaned as she got to the bottom where he was waiting and pressed her face to her hands. "Is our love life like your only form of entertainment or something?"

"Of course not! But I do quite enjoy butting into it," he mused wryly, a wicked look to his face.

Catherine eyes him for a moment, "Uh-huh… so are we going to go save your flying death trap or not, Cupid?"

"Oh, no, of course we are! But I do love watching my work, well… at work," Leonardo laughed, patting her shoulder before gesturing for her to follow. "Alright, this way—I think I know where he fell."

Catherine could only roll her eyes, but ultimately she smiled and trotted after their friend. She couldn't honestly get mad at him for all the teasing and what not—he had encouraged them both to confess and had supported them more than anyone else. That, and they did need to hurry, so she set the merriment aside as they made their way towards where they last saw Ezio.

He wasn't quite where Leonardo thought he would be, but they found him soon enough by the sounds of cursing. Thankfully, both the man and the machine were all in one piece, although the former was disgruntled. There was no time to gripe at the moment, though, as the noise had attracted unwanted attention. They had to leave quickly and conspicuously, which wasn't entirely easy with the giant pair of wings, but they somehow managed it and returned the thing back to the floor of the artist's workshop. It was there, the young man finally gave way to his consternation. Leonardo, however, was overjoyed, and circled his creation with much revelry.

"I still cannot believe it! It worked! It really worked! You flew, Ezio! You flew!"

"Yes… but not very far," the young man growled as he paced, earning a chuckle from the artist.

"Well, what were you expecting? The machine was not designed for distance."

"Except… we kind of need distance," Catherine replied, glancing between them.

Leonardo hummed as he turned to his table, "Alright, look, let me go over my plans here. Maybe I can find some way to extend the duration of the flight."

"Is there something you might know? That you can tell him?" Ezio whispered to the redhead, suddenly beside her as he touched her arm. She glanced back at him, then to the flying machine, and lastly to Leonardo. She bit her lip, thinking. _Was _there anything she could say? Truthfully, she didn't know much of how it worked beyond what Leonardo told her, and she had never been an aviator. All the planes she knew ran on jet fuel and used thrust and speed to get going. This was different, though. There was no engine to propel them, and she couldn't really think of any other flight machines that used anything else—at least nothing that could relate to Leonardo's invention.

"Um…" she started, only to spin on her heels as the door to the workshop burst open. Both assassins were ready to fight, but calmed when they realized it was just Antonio. Unfortunately, the calm lasted only a split moment as they saw there was panic hidden within the thief leader's eyes.

"Ezio! Catherine! My men tell me Carlo has the poison! We must hurry!"

"Shit! I thought we had more time," the redhead hissed, Ezio cursing softly beside her.

"I suppose it's time we introduce you two at least, being that this is our best bet... Antonio, this is Leonardo. The master inventor… who built this… this…," the young man began, glaring at the contraption as he muttered, "piece of shit!"

"Hey!" the artist barked, standing upright as he crinkled his blueprint in his hands. "It is not the machine's fault—it is _mine_. I have checked and rechecked my blueprints. It is just impossible! I do not know how to extend the flight! Ah, it was a crazy fucking idea in the first place!"

With a snarl he tossed the paper to the fire and sat down in a nearby chair to brood. Catherine sighed, knowing he had it in him, and only wished she knew the answer. Normally she would never consider telling him anything from the future, but right now it seemed they had no choice. Yet, she had nothing to give but a gentle touch on his shoulder, and a reassuring smile.

"Leo, you'll get it. You just need to… rethink it," she told him, motioning to the paper as it floated over the fire. He watched it for a moment before suddenly laughing, causing her to jump back in surprise.

"_Eureka!_ Of course! Genius! Oh, thank-you, Catherine! Once again, you are ever helpful!" he grinned, clasping her hands before darting over to his desk.

"What is he doing now?" Antonio asked, but only received shrugs as the artist went to work.

"Heat rises. It needs fire! Heated air under its wings will lift the machine… or… it should… it is possible…"

"…oh my God—it _is_," the redhead breathed softly, the light bulb going off. It was so obvious! Yet, she knew why she had not thought of it at all; it was just like with hot air balloons! She had never taken a ride nor did she do much related to them, so of course she had forgotten. Still, the concept was the same—it could work! "Leonardo, that's it! That'll work! If you can get hot air under the machine, it should push it back up like you said!"

"Exactly! Oh, how did we not think of this before?!"

"Er… while I'm glad you've figured it out… what good is one fire going to do?"

"Not one fire, Ezio—a dozen! Built all across the city! Enough to carry you from here all the way to the _Palazzo Ducale_!" he replied, returning to his papers. This time he focused on a detailed map of the city as he scratched off various points—all leading to the location in question.

"How..?" Antonio asked, stepping forward, eyes roving the map. He nodded a moment later. "Oh, I see! My men could do that… but you are forgetting about the guards."

"Don't worry. Catherine and I can take care of them," the young man nodded.

"If we split up we can cover more areas, too—save some time," the redhead added, motioning to the map.

Antonio grinned, "Excellent! I will give the order to have my men move in behind you, and hold the locations. They will light them all the second the sun goes down over _San Marco_."

"We need to move quickly then… so these four areas then?" Catherine inquired, swiping a finger along the map, just above the X's.

Leonardo nodded, "Yes; if we put a few fires around here, it should get you to where you need."

"Got it. You and Antonio get the machine ready. Ezio and I will clear the areas for the fires."

"Understood—now hurry! The fate of the city is at stake!" Antonio bade, and they wasted not a moment more.

**-O-**

It hadn't been easy, and without time on their side, their mission was all the more difficult. Having two Assassins to split the work helped relieved the burden, but daylight always seemed to vanish more quickly when you didn't want it to. Certainly, it was as if most everything was working against them in their mission; every corner had a guard; every wall lacked proper footing; every roof tile wanted to slip; every archer could find them. Yet, they managed. Catherine had taken the two near spots while Ezio went farther. There had been a few close calls here and there, but ultimately she rid the location of all the guards who would prove troublesome. As Antonio has said, his men were quick to fill in the spots, ridding the roofs of the bodies and preparing a pyre to sit alight. Once confirmed they were all set, she would depart for the next area, and repeat the process.

Despite the failing light, she could tell Ezio was having similar luck by the numerous figures in the distance doing the same as the others. As such, she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Oh, she knew he could do it, but she would always fret over him. She loved him, after all, and no amount of knowing how skilled and good he was at surviving could keep her from feeling the knot of worry in her belly.

Now that it was appeased, though, she skirted the roofs back to where Leonardo and Antonio waited with his construct, altered and repaired for Ezio's second flight. Unfortunately, the realization that Ezio would be on his _own_ came to mind around then, and the knot grew tighter than ever. The _Palazzo_ was heavily guarded, and there were yet more guards on the roofs they hadn't taken care of. What could she do, though? Leonardo only had one of the machine and she wouldn't be able to get in the _Palazzo_. It was not a thought she liked, and she didn't bother to hide it from her face as Ezio finally returned.

"I'll be fine. You know I will," he said softly as he took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss.

She didn't meet his eyes, "I know… but I don't like this. I can't be there with you."

"We've done missions alone before—some where _I _had to fret over _you_."

"Not like this, though. Getting out is…"

"Easier than in. I won't leave you, my love. So be at ease. I will return to you—like always," he smiled, although she sighed in return. She did look up, however, and saw his sincerity; his sureness. She had to sigh again, but nodded, and gave him a short, but meaningful kiss.

"Be safe—the Doge's life depends on you," she told him. He nodded, stole a peck, and then turned back to Leonardo and Antonio. Sunlight had all but disappeared beyond the horizon, and the dark clouds looming overhead only served to block them out further. In the distance, on the vast rooftops, flames began to emerge. They grew brighter and larger with each passing moment.

"It is time," Antonio stated, saying what they were all thinking.

Leonardo smiled, pointing, "You did it! It is beautiful!"

"Yes. Now let us hope your idea works. Because we are nearly out of time," the thief leader pressed, to which the artist nodded and turned to the young man.

"Listen close, Ezio: You are going to want to fly from fire to fire. The heat of each one you pass over should lift you back up in the air again."

"Got it."

Antonio came closer, "Careful, though! There are archers out on the roofs tonight. Avoid those arrows, or it will be a short trip."

"I wish there was some way I could use my sword while flying this thing," Ezio mused, gesturing.

The artist chuckled, "Well… you do have your feet free. If you get close enough without taking an arrow in the head—maybe you could kick them off the building?"

"Nice."

"It is now or never, my friend," the leader of the thieves spoke, motioning to the machine. Ezio nodded at him, but paused to look back at Catherine. He lifted her chin when she did not meet his gaze, and he gave her a reassuring smile. No words passed between them, but she knew what he meant. The young man returned to the contraption then, settling in, and, with one final look to the redhead, he took off into the night. He blended in too well for her to follow his movements, and so she sighed. He was on his own now.

Or was he?

An idea came to mind, and she touched at her pocket where the Clock was hidden from the world. Maybe she could help in another way? She could potentially use it to get into the building, although she doubted she would get there any time soon compared to Ezio. If he got into trouble, though, then perhaps it could be of use. She could slow time and get ahead of him, too—get to the guards and help lessen the danger. Yes, she could do that.

Yet, she recalled her promise to Ezio—to never use it again. There had been unavoidable times, of course, but nothing purposeful. Nothing like how this would be. Not to mention there were the consequences of it. Not only her emotional guilt, but the physical as well. She could never forget what happened that night, or the possibility that using it had stolen so much more from her. Still, Ezio could need help. This mission could cost him his life. Even if it meant getting hurt she had to make sure he would be okay—right?

The redhead inhaled slowly as she tugged at the sensation she knew was related to the Clock. She hadn't touched it—really reached—since the night she had collapsed, but she still remembered. It, too, remembered, and she felt the warmth growing.

She felt the sharp pain in her head and stopped immediately.

She frowned, looking down at her pocket. That pain wasn't like the one before—rather, it was the kind she'd gotten when she'd faced Rodrigo and tried to save Lorenzo's brother. The kind that kept her from going beyond her limits; beyond the Clock's purpose. Did that mean he would be fine then? It had to. She was brought here to protect him, after all. Her stomach was hardly appeased, though, and now she would have a more difficult time helping now. What was the best way, though? She couldn't take care of the archers anymore, but perhaps closer to the _palazzo_?

"Catherine, are you alright?" Leonardo voice interjected, disrupting her thoughts. She blinked owlishly as she looked to him, his hand touching her arm now. "You are being rather quiet…"

"He made his choice, and I have faith… I just…"

"Ah, yes. You want to help him, as always. He would be just the same. Such a pair you are," he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to the city, the flames still burning bright and Ezio out there somewhere. "You cannot do much for the archers… but you could meet him at the destination. He will not arrive for a bit longer, and getting to the Doge will be difficult still. I know there are entrances left open at night, but are heavily guarded. I imagine Ezio will try to take those exits. He could use aid there."

Antonio chuckled, "It is a wonder they are not yet married! But your friend is right. You should head to the _palazzo_ to meet and help him, regardless of whether or not the best or worst should happen. As always, what men of my mine are free are at your disposal."

"And as always you have my thanks. Hopefully we'll see you soon, Leo," she replied, her spirits a bit higher as she clasped the artist's hand, and then darted off into the night.

Catherine went as quickly as she could, leaping from roof to roof until the streets fared better. It thankfully wasn't all too far—especially when one was running at full speed—but she still felt like it was taking far too long. The whispers on the street of a "demon" in the sky only made it worse, and the guards strewn about were uneasy; quick to frighten. It forced her to keep to the shadows and keep her hood low as she circumnavigated the alleyways towards the Doge's _palazzo_. She had gathered a few thieves on the way, too, just in case, and they kept close on her heels as they approached the wide spread area at the docks. There she bade her allies to wait until needed while she went closer. They were happy to comply—they weren't ones to fight, although they would if forced—as she kept out of the light of fires and approached to scout the _palazzo_.

She found the spot Leonardo spoke of easily enough, and he hadn't been exaggerating when he said it was heavily guarded. She could count at least one spearman per entrance, and two more swords to add to it. With guerilla tactics she could take them on, but it would cause a commotion and attract the attention of the other guards. Briefly, she considered that might _help_ Ezio, but changed her mind. He could do this on his own. He knew what he was doing, and unless he had told her otherwise, it was best she did nothing until she felt he absolutely needed it. So she waited.

Of course, the waiting did nothing to ease her nerves. She bit her lip anxiously, shifting here and there while glancing around to see if anyone had noticed the shape in the dark. There wasn't really anyone out, so that helped, and the guards apparently couldn't make her out—even better. But where was Ezio? Why was it taking so long? If he didn't hurry the Doge could be dead! The Templars could be in power! Had it already happened then? Had they failed? Had the Templars been waiting? Was Ezio captured? Should she force her way in?

Catherine cursed softly, hating not being in there to help. She hated this not knowing—having to rely on her faith.

Shouting tore the young woman from her bitter thoughts and made her heart jolt in her chest. Her eyes shot to the entrance where the guards had turned and now drew their weapons. Shouts of intruder and assassin and to stop them rang out, and she cursed again. She dashed forward to the entrance and pulled out two smoke bombs.

"Ezio—cover your face!" she hollered in case he was there and threw them. The men were engulfed in white smoke. They began to cough and stagger, rubbing at their stinging eyes as she set upon them. She made sure her nose and mouth were covered—she could stand the burn in her eyes—as she shoved her hidden blade into the backs, sides, and throats of at least three. She couldn't entirely tell how many were in the smoke anymore. One was coming towards her, though, and she readied to strike them down, but was stopped as a gloved hand grasped her arm, just above the blade. A familiar hood appeared a second later, and then Ezio was pulling her out through the smoke. He made to go left, but she tugged him back right, pointing to the thieves, whom she whistled for. They rushed towards them at once.

"Keep any guards off us!" she barked, and with a nod they separated some to do just that. The two of them, meanwhile, darted up to the roofs as quickly as they could at Ezio's urging. He didn't stop them moving for a long while as they went the far way around back to the Thieves' Den, although he didn't quite go there, either. Rather, he stopped a bit off and used a nearby chimney to lean again, panting hard.

"Fuck!" he snarled, fists clenched. He banged one against the brick as well, his fury too much. Catherine placed her hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to her. He didn't meet hers for a moment, but he calmed some at her touch. He let out an exasperated breath through his nose before he spoke, "I failed. The Doge is dead—and the guards think _I _did it."

She swallowed with some difficulty, "…Shit. And Carlo..?"

"Dead. I was able to kill him before he escaped, but they succeeded. Marco will be made Doge."

"Shit," the redhead repeated, hand falling from his face. Her mind raced as she looked out on the city; heard the alarms ringing; saw fires being lit. _Venezia_ was going to become a death trap for them—for _him_, especially. She reached down to grasp his hand. "We have to leave."

He looked at her sharply, but then understood and nodded, albeit reluctantly, "Yes… yes, we do."

"We need to get to Antonio and the others. They'll be able to get us safe passage."

"Yes… we may need to hide for a few days, too."

"Most likely," Catherine sighed softly. She looked to Ezio, and saw how defeated he was. Her heart panged, knowing it would weigh heavy on him no matter what. Still, she reached to turn his face towards her again and pressed their foreheads together. His arm found its way around her waist, pulling her to him to satisfy his need. "You did what all you could—that's all that could be asked of you."

"…I know," he said after a long pause, tightening his grip in an odd hug and kissed her brow. "I know… now let's hurry inside."

He went on without another word, and she watched him go silently. Regret lingered, and she touched at her Clock—wondering if she could have done more.

In the end, she pushed the thought aside and hurried after.

**-O-**

**September 16, 1485**

**Venice, Italy**

It took four days of waiting to find a boat that would take them back to _Forli_. There had been some before that, but with the city on high alert all day and night for the last three days, it was deemed better they stay put. It hadn't been easy to remain cooped up in their house all that time, but they knew it was what needed to be done. They had each other as well, and relished in the company, although a dour cloud lingered over the duo—particularly the young man. He knew there was nothing more to have been done, but a loss was still a loss and the Templars grew stronger. But that was war—you won some battles, lost others, and now they had to retreat, regroup, and wait until it was safe to make another move.

Antonio had made sure to keep them safe until then and keep them updated. Marco Barbarigo would ultimately be appointed the new Doge, but for now there were politics to work through. Ultimately that meant not much could be done by the Templar for a little while still, which was a bit of a relief. They still had to leave, though, and so the leader of the thieves had them escorted to a ship owned by a captain who wouldn't ask questions about two miscreants dressed in rags who may or may not have had ties with the Thieves Guild. That was fine by them, although they always kept their gear close, and made sure to be in the spot that granted them the least amount of notice. Just a simple corner where they could lie together; Catherine with her back to Ezio's chest, using him as a pillow of sorts while he kept her close with his arms around her waist. It was there thoughts from before returned and plagued her all the first day and well into the night. It was why she was still up now, and why she had pulled her Clock out from her pocket.

It hadn't let her help before, and now she wondered if it was because she would have interfered with the death of the Doge. Had it been inevitable then? Were the Templars supposed to be in power? And what of the time before? Why had it activated then, though, when she hadn't wanted it to? The "God" hadn't appeared, either, so what had happened? And why had Rodrigo seemed so different? Was it because he was special—protected from her powers? She didn't understand, and it frustrated her. Worse still, she always worried over its effects on her. What all had it done? What more could it do? And how long did she have? Would she even be taken away? She always thanked God for every day she woke up in Ezio's arms, but every night she still feared.

Needless to say she would have been glad to be rid of it, and so sighed with exasperation as she let her head fall back on Ezio's chest. His arms moved, and the way in which he stirred told her he hadn't actually been sleeping. He would deny it, of course, so she didn't bother to call him out on it. Instead, she let him bring his hands to cover hers, touching at the device. He wasn't burned, so he had no intention of taking it from her. Or rather, he knew he _couldn't_, so that helped spare him. She knew he wished he could, though.

"Everything alright, my love?" he asked softly as he kissed her head.

"Just thinking," she replied, touching at the dial. She always wondered if it had moved, but couldn't be sure.

"I see…" he hummed, and she had to roll her eyes. He had a question to ask himself, so she waited for the minute or two he would need. Then, a sigh, "Catherine… you said it activated on the bridge—back when we spied on them a few days ago… do you know… why?"

She was the one to sigh this time, "No… No, I don't… and Rodrigo… something was… _off_ about him. I don't know what, but he was different than how he should have been."

"Is it related to how you couldn't use the Clock against him before?"

"I… I don't know. Maybe? This stupid thing never tells me anything remotely useful!" she growled, grip tightening around it. His hand closed around hers, urging her to calm.

"Another mystery to figure out then."

"I guess… but I like this one the least."

"We have time to ponder on it. Antonio thinks we should stay away for at least a few months," he offered, shrugging.

"True… I dunno… maybe we can try and do some research where we haven't before. Which is practically nowhere, but… we'll have lots of down time with the city about as good as it can get these days. That and Winter is coming. We won't have much to do in the fields."

"No, we won't… well, we can visit _Firenze_. See what their books might have to say. We should also speak to Lorenzo of what's happened."

She groaned, "Yeah, we should, although I hate to tell him we failed. I hate having to tell _Mario_ we failed… God, this is going to suck."

"We'll figure it out. We always do," he chuckled, shifting so she was lying on her back and he could look at her proper. She turned to face him, putting the Clock away.

"Kinda. But I get what you mean," she chuckled, nuzzling under his chin. "I guess… well, I suppose all we can do now is hope for the best, do what we can, and hope the enemy won't get too far ahead when we come back."

"Sounds like a plan… now, rest. We both need it," he chuckled back, kissing her brow, and pulling her against him.

"Yeah… and some fucking later. I wanna be fucked senseless," she rumbled, burying her head into his chest, which rumbled with his laughter.

"As you wish, kitty-'Cat."

* * *

**57 – **_End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_Gotta hand it to the lady... she knows what she wants, and it's to make hot love to a sexy Italian man ID_

_Just kidding._

_Although she does totally want that._

_But anyways!_

_So. Doge failed. Clock is still a jerk. Leonardo is the cheeky gay best friend we all wish we had. Doge died, whoops. But hey Carlo is dead, so it's all even right? _

_But it's time for another MISLEADING TIME SKIP (thanks Ubisoft). About a year will go by in actuality, and then we get to have more fun, woo! Just kidding. Things get worse :'D Look forward to it, guys, tee hee._

_Also, again, no guarantees on next update, but I will do my best! Wish me luck, though-I've got presentations, tests, and papers I've got to write this semester!_


	59. Ain't No Rest For the Wicked

_**TMWolf:** oof! Well this update took longer than it should have, but what can I say? Life is rough and school is even, uh, 'rougher' xD But yeah. Been busy with school mostly, which is coming to a close so I should hopefully have a bit more time. We'll see! But for now updates are still varied, but I'll do what I can to keep 'em coming as soon as possible! For now... here's the next chapter! Kind of just a filter chapter, but important all the same!_

_As usual, how I write the canon is based upon my interpretation of the canon material._

_Now for reviews! Thank you all so much for your kind words! They help inspire me and I love that y'all love Catzio! Sail the ship with me! xD_

**_Gemma:_**_ Pssssh, Ezio makes up plenty for the stress with stress relief (*cough*sex*cough*). Now, to answer your question... My second favorite Assassin (yes, Ezio is my first xD) is probably Edward. He had such a great story and I enjoyed playing as him. Jacob is a close third, though :) For Question 2... I think Ezio would, ultimately win, being that he could overpower her and is a bit more skilled, but Catherine would make it very difficult that's for sure! In some cases she might even win, but definitely Ezio overall. Thanks so much for your review! XD_

_**Joker:** Sorry for the delay! Like I said, busy life going on haha..._

_And that's all for that, sooo..._

_Cage the Elephant - Ain't No Rest For the Wicked is the song choice, today. Not really a lyric match, but the title works in its way xD_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**58 **– _Ain't No Rest For the Wicked_

* * *

**January 2, 1486**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

Catherine shot up with a gasp, panting hard as sweat dribbled down her face. Eyes wide, she looked down at her upturned, shaking palm. The rest of her shook, too, with a burning cold that coursed through her. It was not unlike when she used the Clock, and there was even an ache in her mind, but she had not activated it. The device was complacent on her nightstand, but she felt the lingering warmth in her fingertips, and she felt a dribble of fluid from her nose. She reached up to touch, and in the dark she could make out the black liquid—blood.

"No—no, no, no!" she hissed, her voice quivering. Beside her, Ezio suddenly shot up, dagger in hand and ready to attack. His eyes flared to see what danger lurked in the dark, but there was only the two of them, and when he looked to his lover he found the despair in her eyes. His body slumped as he realized what had happened and tossed the dagger aside.

"Again?" he inquired softly, reaching up to wipe the remains of the blood from her face.

Catherine couldn't muster a reply, her body still shaking and eyes beginning to sting. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head, nodding weakly as she squeezed her eyes shut. Ezio cursed, running a hand through his hair, and she couldn't help a whimper that soon became a sob. Tears came, and although his arms were around her instantly, pulling her close, it did not ebb them. If anything, it grew worse as she buried her head into Ezio's chest. He tightened his hold, kissed her brow, and kept her close as he sent a scathing glare at the artifact—the source of all the pain. Torn between his rage at it and himself—for being unable to do anything to protect the woman he loved—and despair for Catherine and the agony it gave her, all he could do was comfort her as she battled the pain in the only way she had left.

She calmed after a little while as she usually did; this night only one of many over the countless months now. She dared to say ever since they had returned from _Venezia_ that the nightmares had started. Or rather, she likened them to visions; they were too real to be just dreams, and she knew her Clock had activated. The sensation upon waking could only be made by it, and her bleeding nose was the ultimate sign. She didn't know _why_, though—or _how_. She had never done this before, and she could not make sense of the dream-visions. The "God" was not there. Rather, she saw a figure blurred—made of light. She vaguely recognized them. She _knew_ she'd seen them before, and in their hand an object glowed like a miniature sun. The world was made of lights, and it was if she had been pulled into the world of the Clock. Yet, she was not as she usually was. She was only a spectator, and she watched as the figure altered the word—cut lines and molded them. He changed things around him, although she didn't know what. She knew there was some purpose to it and that she should try to figure it out, but she did not understand. There was no rhyme or reason, and the "God" within her Clock was silent.

The first dream had shocked her and left her wondering. The second irked her, the third angered, the fourth raged, and the fifth drew her into a frenzy. When her rage was spent, only the confusion remained, and it quickly gave way to despair. It didn't help Ezio was filled with as much the same; to be unable to help her in any way. It brought her grief knowing that, but what could she do? She was not the true master of the thing. She knew _she_ was the puppet, but to have no explanation? No sign at all? And to know each activation harmed her? It might not have been the same, but what was it doing to her? What was it doing to her body? What would it take from her next?

It had gone on only a few times a month at first, but now it had become once a week. Waking up in cold, hot sweat and shaking; Ezio embracing her tight; the dull ache after she had spent her tears.

She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

"What do you see this time?" the young man asked gently, holding her in his lap as he leaned against the headboard of the bed. He rubbed along her bare side and leg gently; soothingly; the other arm entwined their fingers together while he kept his chin against her brow.

She sighed softly, "About the same… the figure of light with the small sun… they were… doing things to other people. They did something to their lines. It's like I could, but… more… refined, I think. They have more control. I don't think it's the same as mine—not exactly… there's a connection, though. Why else would I see these things?"

"You couldn't tell more about the figure?"

"No… or… I think… it was a man. I think about your height. Rounder, though. Fatter. Portly. He walked like a noble, though."

"We know many like that."

"Any that could have obtained a Clock like mine?" she chuckled weakly—pitifully.

He kissed her forehead, "Maybe. Who else knows about the Pieces of Eden?"

"…Templars," she replied after a moment, her grip on his hand tightening some. "But… if they have it… that… the Templars…"

Ezio shifted, maneuvering so he could look at her face easier; the freckled visage set with stern concentration. He waited patiently, letting her work through whatever machinations were running in her mind. Indeed there was much work going—traversing through memory; faded images and words she struggled to recall.

"Catherine?" he called softly when she remained quiet, biting her lip as her brows furrowed.

"It's just… that… seems familiar. Like someone… mentioned it before—a long time ago. Like I was… warned about this. You don't think…" she began, looking to her Clock. Her grip tightened again. "Is… could it be that's what I was brought here for? And if so… does that mean…"

"_Don't_ finish that thought. You are not leaving. I won't let you," her lover snarled, arms ensnaring her, bringing her tight against him. "I will not let it take you from me."

She wanted to say what her heart told her—that they would have no choice, but she bit her tongue. She wanted to stay even more than he did. To be taken from Ezio was unbearable, and she had, at some point, forgotten the thought entirely, but now it was back, and she was afraid. She tried to be strong for him, though; to put on a brave face. But it was hard sometimes—like tonight. Still, she did what she could, and used him as her support.

"What will we do?" she asked softly, although wondered if the true word to use was "can"—would _could_ they do?

"Anything. Everything. We'll stop the Templars without using that damned, blighted thing, and we'll be together. We'll adopt a child and have a family and live here with everyone and be happy. All of us."

Catherine sniffed, eyes watering as she buried her face into his neck, "Y-yeah. We will."

"Catherine," he called, lifting a hand to her face as he nudged her back. She was reluctant, though, and he urged her more. "Catherine. Look at me. Look at me—_please_."

She did so at last, pitiful and tired and defeated. She could see the pain in his visage; could feel it in how he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. He kissed her then, deep and gentle and loving.

"We'll figure this out. We always do. We'll be together—always. I won't let you go, so hold onto me… believe in me—this—_us_. Please, Catherine."

"I… I don't know if…"

"Just try. Don't give up. You have to be strong still. Believe in me."

"I… I'll try. I'm just… I'm… tired. I'm tired," she sighed, closing her eyes and slumped against him. His arms were around her at once, and he leaned back against the headboard and pillows once more. He rubbed her back gently, kissing the top of her head.

"Then rest, my love… gather your strength. Use my own if you must. I will not let you falter," Ezio spoke softly, the movements of his hand working in tandem with her growing exhaustion to help lull her to sleep. He, however, could not find rest. Rather, his focus turned to the artifact on the night stand. To it he sent all his curses and rage and fury for all the pain it caused. To the Templars he sent a promise to end them before they could do more. And to Catherine he promised to keep safe the dream they made—to have the life they wanted. Even if it cost him everything, he would not lose her.

Lastly, to himself, he promised he would not fail.

**-O-**

**January 4, 1486**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"What are you drawing?"

Catherine paused in her sketching to look to her right, a young boy practically perched on her shoulders; nose just barely poking over. She could feel his little fingers clutching at her sleeve, and so she chucked as she brought her arm up and over to pull Giovanni closer. He did so gleefully and peered at the parchment, the black marks formed into a shape of a wolf. There was no true purpose behind it beyond getting rid of some boredom while she waited for Ezio to return from his work on the walls. She had trained instead and worked with the newest recruits to toughen them up. Some had been reluctant to obey a woman, but a quick demonstration of her skills that left them trounced put an end to that. Add in a quick show of her hidden blade, and they wouldn't think of trying anything later, either. She didn't necessarily like doing so, but it was a means of safety; a show of dominance, so to speak. With that done, though, there was not much to do but wait until dinner and bed, which meant she was free for Claudia to use her as a babysitter while she attended to new business propositions for the city. She was the city's matriarch, after all.

"Just some sketches—this one a wolf. I did a lion and eagle, too, but I _had_ to do a wolf," she grinned, motioning to the drawings.

"Mmm… wolves are scary," the young Auditore hummed, clutching at her sleeve again. She chuckled, knowing he'd heard all sorts of horror stories from farmers and the like. It wasn't unheard of, either, to have a wayward traveler be attacked. Yet, people were prone to fear far too easily.

"Only because you don't understand them," she explained, moving her chair back some to hoist the young boy into her lap. He may have been five—almost six now—but he was still just a child. He'd not yet grown brave, although he had expressed interest in the sword fighting his father and both uncle and aunt were into. Claudia was torn between being a proud lioness and a worried mother hen. Ultimately, she would relent, but for now she refused to let her "baby" get hurt. "You see, Giovanni… wolves are just animals. Dogs came from them, you know. They're like a stronger, wilder form, but they're not evil or monsters like most might think. They just fight to survive, and sometimes that means they come onto a farm and take a sheep or chicken because it's much easier than trying to kill a deer that can run fast. They do it to live—and so their families can live. Wolves work in packs, you know. They're one big family all working together to hunt and raise pups—their children—and survive."

Giovanni paused, thinking, "So… like… us?"

"Yes, kind of like us—the Auditore's. You, me, your mama, your papa, your Uncle and Great Uncle, and your grandmother, too. And don't forget your brother. You're our pups, and we're the big wolves that keep you safe from all the bad things out there—the _real_ monsters."

"'Real monsters'," the child repeated, eyes falling as he stopped to think for a moment. He even scrunched his brow just like his mother would, and then looked back to the redhead. "You mean… like the Templars?"

Catherine raised a brow, "You know about them already?"

"Umm… Everyone tries to hide it… but I hear Mama and Papa and Great Uncle Mario talk about them… so I asked and they told me you and Uncle Ezio are fighting them. Mario, too. And Mama and Papa in their own way. They sound scary, but you fight them. You take care of the monsters."

"We do… that we do. We do it for you and the others and everyone in this city and the country, too," she smiled, hugging him close.

"I wish I were brave like you—like a wolf," he spoke, eyes falling some. "I wanna fight like Papa, and he trains me when Mama isn't looking… but I'm not that good. Not like the ones Papa trains."

She chuckled, "That's because you're still little, Giovanni. You haven't grown into your sword yet—but you will. I was much, much, _much_ older than you when I started, and I was a _lot_ weaker than even the youngest recruit, but I got stronger. Every day I trained hard, and now look at me: I fight monsters and prepare the recruits for battle, too. So don't worry. You will become strong like your Papa, and just as determined and stubborn as your Mama. You'll see. And maybe your brother will join you, too."

Giovanni's eyes lit up, "Really? You think so? I wanna protect everyone, too!"

"In time. But first you must grow some more—in both body and mind. A wolf cannot shirk his books, either. Technique is just as important as strength."

"I already do reading, though! Mama makes me," the little boy huffed, pouting.

Catherine laughed, "For good reason. Just heed your Mama, lest she get mad at all of us. You know she can have a temper."

"Mama _can_ be scary."

"That she can," a familiar voice came from behind, and the two turned their head to find Ezio pushing past the last few steps of the ladder in the entryway. He visibly relaxed as he finally got to the sturdy ground and began to undo the strings of his top vest. He paused to give Catherine a kiss—Giovanni showed his distaste with an emphatic "ew" and scrunch of his nose—before heading over to their dresser.

"How did things go?" the redhead inquired, leaning back. In her lap, their nephew watched curiously.

"Easy enough—just practice for the men, really… although we did have a messenger pigeon come," he replied, pulling the letter from his pocket with a familiar seal broken already. She knew at once it was from Antonio and the Thieves Guild of _Venezia_, and so eased the little boy off her lap.

"Giovanni, I think your grandmother and Annetta need some company—think you can do that?" she grinned.

The boy waited a moment, no doubt understanding the underlying meaning of things, and nodded, "I can do that."

"Go on then. We'll see you at dinner," Catherine replied, kissing his forehead, and nudged him towards the stairs. "Mind the step."

"I'll be fine!" he shouted back, scampering off. Once she could no longer hear his steps, she came over to her lover's side and picked up the letter he'd set onto the top of their dresser. She read it as he pulled off his sweaty garments and exchanged it for a fresh one.

"So… things have calmed down—for _us_, anyways," she mused aloud, making note that the Templars had been hard at work with one of their own as Doge.

"He would like for us to come back—and soon. He thinks we may have a chance to strike, or that at least we should soon. Apparently the Templars have been regaining more ground then we thought. He's lost quite a few groups," Ezio added grimly, shaking his head before leaning forward to inspect his thickening beard in the mirror.

"…It's that man—the one I see in my dreams," the redhead murmured, letter dropping to her lap. She glanced to Ezio, whom was watching her. "I mean… it has to be, right? The Templars have a Clock, and they must be using it. It's all too much of a coincidence otherwise."

"_If_ it is that…," the young man rumbled back, fist clenching against the wooden surface of the dresser. Catherine didn't fail to notice, and knew what he was getting at. She looked to where the Clock was resting on the night stand.

"I may have to use mine."

"We can't let that happen—we can't let it do harm to you again."

"I know… I know, I know… but what can we do if it is them? If it's _really_ them using it? What if it's the Barbarigos? Or the others? Or—or _Rodrigo_?"

"We'll stop them. It's not infallible—you said so yourself. They can't use it forever, and it's dangerous. If it causes you harm, it must harm them, too. If the Templars have one, they'll know to use it cautiously, too."

The logic seemed sound, but Catherine couldn't help thinking he was lying to himself. Or, at the very least, just being hopeful, because what else could they do? It was true she couldn't use the Clock indefinitely, so surely the enemy couldn't, either. Of course, the fear they could was now there, smoldering and growing, but he had a point. If they could catch the Templar off guard—if she could get to them before they used it, then it should be alright.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"I guess… I guess we'll have to figure it out when we get there. Marco Barbarigo is our target. If he has a Clock… then I'll have to be the one to kill him," she replied, and when Ezio made a low growl, she looked at him sharply. "It _has _to be me if he has it. I'm the only one who can fight it. But… I don't think it's him. Still. We'll have to watch him closely and get what information we can from Antonio."

"We'll do it like we always do. We'll be careful. We'll be safe. We'll make sure they don't get to use it—if they have it," the young man rumbled, reaching over to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her freckles. She leaned into his hand, touching at the back of it gently.

"We should tell Mario. He's noticed something's been going on. We shouldn't leave him in the dark about it. We might need to tell Antonio, too."

"Mm… we can tell Mario, but… I don't know about Antonio. He knows nothing about it. Telling him might discourage him some—or try to put more pressure on you."

"Then we'll just tell Mario for now. He may have some advice we could use, too. When do we leave, though?"

"If we send word to Caterina tonight, we can secure passage in about a week or so. That will give us plenty of time to prepare and make it through the mountains."

"Then that's what we'll do," Catherine nodded, leaning back up and tearing the letter. She stuffed it into her pocket to throw into the fire later. "Well, we have time until supper… shall we speak to Mario then?"

Ezio sighed deeply, though managed a grin, "I'd rather stay here and have supper early."

"_Really_? A sex joke to a serious question?" she replied, brow raised, but she couldn't help chuckling.

"I, for one, am quite exhausted from all these serious moments. I don't know about you, but I find the humor necessary and needed," he rumbled right on back, pulling her to him so he could wrap his arms around her waist. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "That… and knowing what's ahead… I would rather keep as much time with you to as possible. If only to forget there's so little I can do to stop this madness."

Catherine's gaze fell, understanding his plight; knowing it well. She supposed the difference was that she had already accepted the inevitability of things—that there was nothing she could do. She hated and despaired in its wake all the same, but defying it? She had not been able to before. Yet, she understood, and she wanted that bliss he spoke of. She needed it.

With a quick pull, she loosened the strings of her shirt, pulled it over her head, and then tugged at the loose strings of his own.

"Just remember to send the pigeon tonight. We can speak with Mario tomorrow, and Annetta knows to leave supper for us," she spoke before stealing a kiss. It was all the confirmation he needed. With a quick motion he had them on the bed, a breast in hand and mouth and lost in the passion.

**-O-**

**January 5, 1486**

**Monteriggioni, Italy**

"You are… certain?" Mario inquired, rubbing his chin as he paced the room of his office. A stern expression was etched into his face. Catherine didn't blame him, and the same concern he felt was mirrored on their own. It was hard not to have it when his question pertained to the truth they'd revealed to him—that the Templars had a Clock. Or at the very least they were sure they did. There was no one else they knew of that would know to use such or thing or understand how to use it as much as it was being used now. None of them liked it, and both she and Ezio liked having to give the bad news even less, but they needed Mario's council. He might not be an Assassin directly as they were, but he always had good advice, and he was a master of battle with more years to gather wisdom that might be used to fight the enemy. He might see another way to things, too; a path they could not fathom just yet.

"Yes. I'm positive. We don't know _who_ for sure, but I think it's Rodrigo. I can't see him letting anyone else use the Clock, even if he knows it can harm the user," Catherine went on, folding her arms across her chest. Beside her, Ezio nodded, albeit a bit grimly, and looked to his uncle.

The older man paused, still rubbing his chin, "Hmm…"

"Regardless, we are to return to _Venezia_. We have… considered telling Antonio, but we're still not sure if we should. It could lower morale," his nephew mentioned.

"That, and, well… we're the only three that know about _my_ Clock."

"And I do not want Catherine to pushed into using hers—not after what happened," Ezio growled slightly.

"Certainly this is not an easy impasse," Mario said at last, gaze meeting theirs. "I concur that Rodrigo would not let the others wield such an artifact—if only to prevent them from undermining him. He is a proud man at that, and to give up some power… he would not dream of it—not with the designs he has in mind. That, and it is the perfect means to keep those beneath him in line, should they know of it. He may very well not have told them, either. Yes… Rodrigo will be the one who has the Clock."

"Antonio didn't mention seeing him in _Venezia_… so going after Marco should be a lot easier now. Sort of. He is Doge," the redhead mused, pushing off the nearby wall. "But what of telling Antonio, too?"

"That, I am afraid, I must leave to your judgment. Some secrets are better kept from allies—if only for their own protection or sanctity of mind, but sometimes… knowing what dangers, however, impossible, is better than remaining in the dark. But that is for you to decide when it comes to the Clock. It is your responsibility—you know it better than anyone else."

Catherine looked to Ezio, "Well… we have a long boat ride we can think it over on."

"That we do… and our supplies are ready for our leave tomorrow?" the young man inquired, to which his Uncle nodded.

"I have commissioned your weapons and gear be improved as well—the blacksmith works on it as we speak. Getting to the Doge will be much more difficult than you realize, especially after you were blamed for the death of the previous. You may need more than the Thieves Guild to obtain your goal."

"Hmm… I suppose… well, there _are_ courtesans… maybe we can find a Madame like Gina there to use them to get close? Antonio never mentioned one, though," the redhead frowned.

"Most all brothels in a city have one who oversees it all… but we never did get around to asking during our time there. We were always busy with the Thieves or back here."

"There will be one," Mario piped up, earning confused looks. He chuckled, "There was a Thieves Guild, was there not? Just like in _Firenze_. Your father's connection went farther than you think. Just as the Assassins and Templars are more than here, so, too, are the Guilds. Like the Thieves, they have been dwindled by the Templars' work… but as your influence grows… well, you will find they will grow strong enough to emerge again. You will see."

Catherine regarded her Commander carefully. There was something more to his words. She'd had the sense for a while now, but it was always thought to be more like a figment of her imagination. Now, though—now she _knew_. He was hiding something. It wasn't out of malice, however. Never that. Rather, it was like he was trying to nudge them in the right direction as opposed to leading them directly. Why, she couldn't say, but even so she trusted him still. Of course, that didn't mean she wouldn't wish he would just give the answer, but she wouldn't press. She would just keep her question in mind and speak of it with Ezio—a quick glance showed her he seemed to think much the same—later. Perhaps then they might understand. For now, though, they had other things to consider.

"Then we might yet find aid. Too bad we've found no mercenary Guild," Ezio chuckled, causing his lover to roll her eyes.

"Oh, yes, let's gather an army and storm the palace why don't we? _That_ will do wonders," she snorted, to which he shrugged.

"Well,_ I _like the idea. Marco Barbarigo is an ass, anyways."

Mario chuckled, "Come now, I have taught you both better than that. Shall I put you both through training _again_?"

"_Me?! _Ezio's the one saying all that! I'm not part of it!" Catherine huffed, throwing her arms up.

"You know I jest," Ezio snickered, shaking his head. "Anyways… thank-you, Uncle, for your council, and for our gear. I imagine if all goes well we may be back soon enough and for another decent length of time. Killing _two_ Doge's will certainly not be taken lightly."

The older man chuckled again, "No, I suppose it will not, and I am happy to give it. Although, I am not sure I have much more to give. You have both grown into fine Assassins. Certainly, your father would be proud of you, Ezio. And of you, too, Catherine, although he might have been more shocked at his folly—for not considering your potential."

"Ha! To be fair, I was nineteen when we met, and I wasn't exactly a reasonable prospect. What with being from the future and carrying a Piece of Eden and all. I'm just glad you agreed to let me stay."

"As am I," Ezio smirked, waggling his brow at her.

"As are we all," Mario grinned as he came forward and placed his hands on their shoulders. His expression sobered some as he regarded them both. "I know this burden is not easy to carry. I see what it does to you both. But believe in yourselves and each other. You are both stronger than you know. You have come so far, and you will go farther still. Do not fear what comes, but do not forget to prepare for it. And most importantly… have faith. Hold it tight, and when all else fails, look to it. That faith—that _hope_ will see you through every trial you face in the end. You are here for something great. I know it—deep in my gut. There is greatness waiting for you yet. Just stay the course and keep strong."

The feeling from before returned—the one where Catherine knew the older man wasn't telling them the whole truth; knew he was leaving them crumbs to follow. To what, she imagined she would never know until she got there. She took his words to heart, though, and knew he was right in them. Despite all her fears and worries and dread, she needed to keep strong and have faith. She did, in fact, know she was sent here for a great purpose—one she had yet to fulfill. A part of her feared reaching such a goal, but it was also what had allowed her to be here; to find her family; to find her Ezio. So she would be afraid of the end, but she would still be glad for what it had brought her along the way.

At least, she would try to remember that.

"Now, go on. Enjoy your last night here, and we will see you off in the morning," he went on in their silence, and they reached up to grasp his hand. They all squeezed in unison, and that was all there was for that.

**-O-**

Catherine sighed softly as she lay in bed, stroking her fingers gently through Ezio's hair, his head on her chest, using her breast as a pillow at the moment. Much to her chagrin, their latest round of love-making had not exhausted her enough to sleep soundly through the night. Rather, her thoughts had kept her up and were her companions, along with the easy, slow breaths of her lover. She envied him, but was glad he was sleeping—it meant he would worry less over her. She hated seeing him agonize over her own despair, but that was just how they were. They loved one another too much; too deep. It was the kind of love she always dreamed of, and yet she hated how it made him ache.

What could she do, though?

There was so much she couldn't understand or fathom or ready herself for. Too many questions. Too few answers. She supposed, at the very least, she knew the Templars had the same power as her, but then that made her wonder—was this why she had been brought back? Was this why she had the Clock? To stop the Templars? What could she hope to do, though? How could she contend against the power when she couldn't even control her own? She couldn't help thinking her coming had been a mistake—that she wasn't the one that should have come. That it should have been someone better.

But then she would look down upon the face of Ezio—_her _Ezio, and she knew it wasn't a mistake. Not for _her_, anyways. This wasn't a mistake. He wasn't. This love wasn't. What they had made together, be it this family or life or goal or city, it wasn't a mistake. Even if she wasn't meant to be here, she had made this her own, and she'd be damned if she let it slip away from her so easily.

Therein lay her greatest fear—of losing everything; of having no choice. By God she would fight for it, but she feared the inevitability. She feared it more than anything she had ever feared in her life, and it was that fear which kept her awake now and many other nights before and many more to come. It was that fear which made her cherish these moments with Ezio—made her yearn for him more in their love making and kisses and hugs and all things. It was that fear which made her shift further down, allowing her arms to wrap around him. It was that fear that made her push away the guilt of waking him and being greedy—of needing his warmth around her.

"I'm here," he rumbled, half-asleep despite being stirred, and coiled his limbs around her. He was slowly waking, though—he even yawned some—and kissed her cheek. "I've… I've got you… was it… mm… dream?"

"Can't sleep," she whispered back, nestling her head underneath his chin. He was more awake now, adjusting his arms so they cupped her back and kept her pressed against him. His bare flesh was warm and helped sooth the cold chill that had overcome her.

"Sorry—I fell asleep."

"No, you're fine. We went a lot of rounds, and you did most the work this time."

He shook his head, "Should have stayed awake, though. You're worried. I shouldn't be resting when you're worried."

"That's silly, and you know it—especially when I've slept when _you've_ worried, too," she huffed right on back, pinching his side. He squirmed a little and rolled so he was lying flat on her, squishing her some. "You butt."

"Don't pinch me then," he grinned impishly before slipping sideways so he was lying beside her. He leaned up on one arm, watching her, while his other hand stroked along her side. "The usual?"

"Yeah," she sighed, turning to face him. He reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face as she went on, "I mean… I'm relieved about the thought of Marco not having the Clock… but… well, I can't help thinking what it could all mean… and what if… I was brought back to stop Rodrigo and his Clock? What if that was why, and if I do stop him…"

"I told you I won't let you go—not even if tries to force you. Hell, I'll come with you if need be," he growled softly, tugging her a bit closer.

"Come with me? To the future? To my time?" she inquired, raising a brow as she, too, sat up.

He shrugged, "If that's where it takes us, then yes. Ha! I could finally meet your mother and family."

"Jesus Christ, she might die of a heart attack if I suddenly show up with a handsome man I call my boyfriend and I'm, y'know, like five years older," she laughed, shaking her head.

"I think she'd like me… and really you should just call me your husband. We've only been together for more than long enough, and certainly made enough love for it," he smirked, brow waggling.

She smacked him lightly and held up her hand, "You're only my husband once you put a ring on my hand, '_dear_'. Although, we _are_ basically married at this point. I don't even need to make you jealous to keep you around."

"What can I say? You're rather… enticing," he purred, hand trailing around her inner thigh.

"Yeah, your dick ain't so bad, either," she mused, reaching down to grope him. He squirmed in surprise and then returned it by grasping her buttocks roughly. She squeaked in kind, and proceeded to return the favor, which soon became a battle of groping one another. It only ended when Catherine could not keep from laughing and pushed him away to clutch at her aching belly. Ezio, too, laughed, though not as much. He did continue to grin as her laughs became chuckles and she sat up, crossing her legs. She gave him a look, "Clever boy. You got me to laugh."

He sat up, stealing a kiss, "It's the least I can do, and I rather love the sound of your laugh."

"Thank-you," she smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. "I know it's been… hard. It's just… thinking about what's coming, or, rather, what _could_ come…"

"Hey… hey," Ezio spoke quickly, grasping her chin. "I told you—either I'm keeping you here, or I'm coming with you. That _will_ happen. I won't let you go alone. Do you understand? Nothing will keep me from you. I swear it."

Catherine watched him for a long while, and, despite her gnawing fears, she grabbed on tight to those words and didn't let go. Despite her doubts, she forced herself to believe.

She nodded, and suddenly kissed him—hard and passionate. He returned it in kind, pulling her to him. She did so with great need; as if to cement the belief, and it helped. She dared to say it worked, and it wasn't hard to get lost in the flare that came with it. The familiar hunger came, and she knew he felt it to with his hardening erection. She was all too happy to straddle his lap and shove him down to the pillow. Her earlier timidity was lost as she drew her hands along his firm torso, her lips twitching upward playfully. Ezio raised a curious, but _very _pleased brow.

"You did all the work earlier so it's my turn now. You just put your hands where you want and enjoy the show," she purred, and with one final kiss to lock away the dark whispers—even if only for the night—she got to work.

* * *

**58 **– _End_

* * *

**_TMWolf: _**_And there we go! That's the filter chapter and now it's off to Venezia! In the meantime... quite a bit of drama this chapter. Catherine is going through some torture/anguish of her own, and Ezio, too. It's not fun in the slightest, and definitely causing some strain, but they're strong enough to work through it. The sex is a good stress relief, too *bricked* But, yeah. Some stressful times for our couple, and now it's time to take on the Templars. Hopefully not Rodrigo, though, who may possess a Clock of his own! That, of course, wouldn't be good at all._

_But that's one of many answers to be learned as we go, and next chapter will hopefully not take too long! :) Until then!_


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